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Eojriurgl^e Clufi. 






Certaine Bokes of Virgiles Aenaeis, turned into English Meter. 
By the Right Honorable Lorde, Henry Earle of Surrey. 

William Bolland, Esq. 1814. 
Caltha Poetarum ; or, The Bumble Bee. By T. Cutwode, Esq. 

BicHARD Heber, Esq. 1815. 
The Three First Books of Ovid de Tristibus, Translated into 
English. By Thomas Chtjrchyarde. 

Earl Spencer, President. 1816. 
Poems. By Bichard Barnfield. 

James Boswell, Esq. 1816. 
Dolarney's Primerose or the Eirst part of the Passionate Hermit. 

Sir Erancis Preeling, Bart. 1816. 
La Contenance de la Table. 

George Henry Freeling, Esq. 1816. 
Newes from Scotland, declaring the Damnable life of Doctor Fian, 
a notable Sorcerer, who was burned at Edenbrough in lanuarie 
last 1691. 

George Henry Freeling, Esq. 1816. 
A proper new Interlude of the World and the Child, otherwise 
called Mundus et Infans. 

Viscount Altiiorp. 1817. 
Hagthorpe Revived ; or Select Specimens of a Forgotten Poet. 

Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges, Bart. 1817. 


Istoria novellamente ritrovata di due nobili Amanti, &c. da Luigi 

Eev. William Holwell Care. 1817. 
The Funeralles of King Edward the Sixt. 

Eev. James William Dodd. 1817. 

A Eoxburghe Garland, 12mo. 

James Boswell, Esq. 1817. 

Cock Lorell's Boat, a Eragment from the original in the British 

Eev. Henry Drury. 1817. 
Le Livre du Eaucon. 

Egbert Lang, Esq. 1817. 
The Glutton's Eeaver. By Thomas Bancroft. 

John Delafield Phelps, Esq. 1817- 
The Chorle and the Birde. 

Sir Mark Masterman Sykes, Bart. 1818. 
Daiphantus, or the Passions of Love. By Antony Scoloker. 


The Complaint of a Lover's Life. 
Controversy between a Lover and a Jay. 

Eev. Thomas Erognall Dibdin, Vice President. 1818. 

Balades and other Poems. By John Gower. Printed from the 
original Manuscript in the Library of the Marquis of Stafford, 
at Trentham. 

Earl Gower. 1818. 

Diana; or the excellent conceitful Sonnets of H. C, supposed to 
have been printed either in 1592 or 1594. 

Edward Littledale, Esq. 1818. 

Chester Mysteries. De Deluvio Noe. De Occisione Innocentium. 

James Heywood Markland, Esq. 1818. 

Ceremonial at the Marriage of Mary Queen of Scotts with the 
Dauphin of Prance. 

William Bentham, Esq. 1818. 

The Solempnities and Triumphes doon and made at the Spousells 
and Marriage of the King's Daughter the Ladye Marye to the 
Prynce of Castile, Archduke of Austrige. 

John Dent, Esq. 1818. 

The Life of St. Ursula. 
Guiscard and Sigismund. 

Duke of Devonshire. 1818. 

Le Morte Arthur. The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Du Lake. 

Thomas Ponton, Esq. 1819. 

Six Bookes of Metamorphoseos in whyche ben conteyned the Fables 
of Ovyde. Translated out of Prensshe into Englysshe by 
William Caxton. Printed from a Manuscript in the Library 
of Mr. Secretary Pepys, in the College of St. Mary Magdalen, 
in the University of Cambridge. 

George Hibbert, Esq. 1819. 

Cheuelere Assigne. 

Edward Vernon Utterson, Esq. 1820. 

Two Interludes : Jack Jugler and Thersytes. 

Joseph Haslewood, Esq. 1820. 

The New Notborune Mayd. The Boke of Mayd Emlyn. 

George Isted, Esq. 1820. 

The Book of Life ; a Bibliographical Melody. 

Dedicated to the Roxburghe Club by Richard Thomson. 

8vo. 1820. 
Magnyfycence : an Interlude. By John Skelton, Poet Lauroat to 
Henry VIII. 

Joseph Littledale, Esq. 1821. 


Judicium, a Pageant. Extracted from the Towneley Manuscript of 
Ancient Mysteries. 

Peregrine Edward Towneley, Esq. 1822. 
An Elegiacal Poem, on the Death of Thomas Lord Grey, of Wilton. 
By Robert Marston. Prom a Manuscript in the Library of 
The Right Honourable Thomas Grenville. 

ViscoTJNT Morpeth. 1822. 
Selections from the Works of Thomas Ravenscroet ; a Musical 
Composer of the time of King James the Pirst. 

Duke oe Marlborough. 1822. 

L^Lii Peregrini Oratio in Obitum Torquati Tassi. Editio 

Sir Samuel Egerton Brtdges, Bart. 1822. 

The Hors, the Shepe, and the Ghoos. 

Sir Mark Masterman Stkes, Bart. 1822. 
The Metrical Life of Saint Robert of Knaresborough. 

Rev. Henry Drury. 1824. 

Informacon for Pylgrymes unto the Holy Londe. Prom a rare 
Tract in the Library of the Paculty of Advocates, Edinburgh. 

George Henry Preeling, Esq. 1824. 

The Cuck-Queanes and Cuckolds Errants or the Bearing Down the 
Inne, a Comaedie. The Paery Pastorall or Porrest of Elues. 

By W P , Esq. 

John Arthur Lloyd, Esq. 1824. 

The Garden Plot, an Allegorical Poem, inscribed to Queen Eliza- 
beth. By Henry Goldingham. Prom an unpublished Manu- 
script of the Harleian Collection in the British Museum. To 
which are added some account of the Author ; also a reprint of 
his Masques performed before the Queen at Norwich on 
Thursday, August 21, 1578. 

Venerable Archdeacon Wrangham. 1825. 

La Rotta de Francciosi a Terroana novamente facta. 
La Rotta de Scocesi. 

Earl Spencer, President. 1825. 
Nouvelle Edition d'un Poeme sur la Joum6e de Guinegate. 

Presented by the Marquis de Portia. 1825. 

Zul^ima, par C. Pichler. 12mo. 

Presented by H. de Chateaugiron. 1825. 

Poems, written in English, by Charles Duke of Orleans, during 
his Captivity in England after the Battle of Azincourt. 

George Watson Taylor, Esq. 1827. 

Proceedings in the Court Martial held upon John, Master of 
Sinclair, Captain-Lieutenant in Preston's Regiment, for the 
Murder of Ensign Schaw of the same Regiment, and Captain 
Schaw, of the Royals, 17 October, 1708 ; with Correspondence 
respecting that Transaction. 

Sir Walter Scott, Bart. 1828. 

The Ancient English Romance of Havelok the Dane ; accompanied 
by the Erench Text : with an Introduction, Notes, and a 
Glossary. By Erederic Madden, Esq. 

Printed for the Club. 1828. 

Gaufridi Arthurii Monemuthensis Archidiaconi, postea vero 
Episcopi Asaphensis, de Vita et Vaticiniis Merlini Calidonii, 
Carmen Heroicum. 

Hon. and Rev. G. Neville Grenville. 1830. 

The Ancient English Romance of William and the Werwolf; edited 
from an unique copy in King's College Library, Cambridge ; 
with an Introduction and Glossary. By Frederic Madden, 

Earl Cawdor. 1832. 


The Private Diary of William, first Earl Cowpeb, Lord Chan- 
cellor of England. 

B/EV. Edward Craven Hawtrey. 1833. 

The Lyvys of Seyntes; translated into Englys be a Doctour of 
Dyuynite clepyd Osbern Bokenam, frer Austyn of the 
Convent of Stocklare. 

Viscount Clive, President. 1835. 

A Little Boke of Ballads. 

Dedicated to the Club by E. V. Utterson, Esq, 1836. 

The Love of Wales to their Soueraigne Prince, expressed in a true 
Relation of the Solemnity held at Ludlow, in the Countie of 
Salop, upon the fourth of November last past. Anno Domini 
1616, being the day of the Creation of the high and mighty 
Charles, Prince of Wales, and Earle of Chester, in his Maiesties 
Palace of White-Hall. 

Presented by the Honourable B, H. Clive. 1837. 

Sidneiana, being a collection of Eragments relative to Sir Philip 
Sidney, Ejiight, and his immediate Connexions. 

Bishop of Lichfield. 1837. 

The Owl and the Nightingale, a Poem of the Twelfth Century. 
Now first printed from Manuscripts in the Cottonian Library, 
and at Jesus' College, Oxford; with an Introduction and 
Glossary. Edited by Josephus Stevenson, Esq. 

Sir Stephen Bichard Glynne, Bart. 1838. 

The Old English Version of the Gesta Bomanorum : edited for the 
first time from Manuscripts in the British Museum and Uni- 
versity Library, Cambridge, with an Introduction and Notes, by 
Sir Erederic Madden, K.H. 

Printed for the Club, 1838. 


Illustrations of Ancient State and Chivalry, from MSS. preserved 
in the Ashmolean Museum, with an Appendix. 

Benjamin Barnard, Esq. 1840. 

Manners and Household Expenses of England in the thirteenth and 
fifteenth Centuries, illustrated by original Records. I. House- 
hold Roll of Eleanor Countess of Leicester, A.D. 1265. 
II. Accounts of the Executors of Eleanor Queen Consort of 
Edward I. A.D. 1291. III. Accounts and Memoranda of Sir 
John Howard, first Duke of Norfolk, A.D. 1462 to A.D. 1471. 

Beriah Botfield, Esq. 1841. 

The Black Prince, an Historical Poem, written in Erench, by 
Chandos Herald ; with a Translation and Notes by the Bev. 
Henry Octavitjs Coxe, M.A. 

Printed for the Club. 1842. 

The Decline of the last Stuarts. Extracts from the Despatches of 
British Envoys to the Secretary of State. 

Printed for the Club. 1843. 

Vox Populi Vox Dei, a Complaynt of the Comons against Taxes. 
Presented according to the Direction of the late 

Eight Hon. Sir Joseph Littledale, Knt. 1843. 

Household Books of John Duke of Norfolk and Thomas Earl of 
Surrey; temp. 1481 — 1490. Erom the original Manuscripts 
in the Library of the Society of Antiquaries, London. Edited 
by J. Payne Collier, Esq., E.S.A. 

Printed for the Club. 18-44. 

Three Collections of English Poetry of the latter part of the Six- 
teenth Century. 

Presented by the Duke of Northumberland, K.G. 1845. 


Historical Papers, Part I. Castra Regia, a Treatise on the Suc- 
cession to the Crown of England, addressed to Queen Elizabeth 
by EyOGER Edwards, Esq., in 1568. Novissima Straffordii, 
Some account of the Proceedings against, and Demeanor of, 
Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, both before and during 
his Trial, as well as at his Execution ; written in Latin by 
Abraham Wright, Vicar of Okeham, in Rutlandshire. The 
same (endeauord) in English by James Wright, Barrister at 

Rev. Philip Bliss, D.C.L., and Rev. Bulkeley Bandinel. 1846. 

Correspondence of Sir Henry TJnton, Knt., Ambassador from 
Queen Elizabeth to Henry IV. King of Prance, in the years 
MDXCI. and MDXCII. Prom the originals and authentic 
copies in the State Paper Office, the British Museum, and 
the Bodleian Library. Edited by the Rev. Joseph Stevenson, 
M.A. Printed for the Club. 1847. 

La Vraie Cronicque d'Escoce. Pretensions des Anglois a la 
Couronne de Prance. Diplome de Jacques VI. Roi de la 
Grande Bretagne. Drawn from the Burgundian Library by 
Major Robert Anstruther. 

Printed for the Cltjb. 1847. 

The Sherley Brothers, an Historical Memoir of the Lives of Sir 
Thomas Sherley, Sir Anthony Sherley, and Sir Robert Sherley, 
Knights, by one of the same House. Edited and Presented by 

Evelyn Philip Shirley, Esq. 1848. 

The Alliterative Romance of Alexander. Prom the unique Manu- 
script in the Ashmolean Museum. Edited by the Rev. 
Joseph Stevenson, M.A. 

Printed for the Club. 1849. 


Letters and Dispatches from Sir Henry Wotton to James the 
First and his Ministers, in the years MDCXVII — XX. 
Printed from the Originals in the Library of Eton College. 

George Tomline, Esq. 1850. 

Poema quod dicitur Vox Clamantis, necnOn Chronica Tripartita, 
auctore Johanne Gower, nunc primum edidit H. O. Coxe, 
M.A. Printed for the Club. 1850. 

Eive Old Plays. Edited from Copies, either unique or of great 
rarity, by J. Payne Collier, Esq., E.S.A. 

Printed for the Club. 1851. 

The Romaunce of the Sowdone of Babylone and of Eerumbras 
his Sone who conquerede E,ome. 

The Duke of Buccleuch, President. 1854. 

The Ayenbite of Inwyt. Erom the Autograph MS. in the British 
Museum. Edited by the Bev. Joseph Stevenson, M.A. 

Printed for the Club. 1856. 

John de Garlande, de Triumphis Ecclesise Libri Octo. A Latin 
Poem of the Thirteenth Century. Edited, from the unique 
Manuscript in the British Museum, by Thomas Wright, Esq., 
M.A., E.S.A., Hon. M.B.S.L., &c. &c. 

Earl of Powis. 1856. 

Poems by Michael Drayton. Erom the earliest and rarest Edi- 
tions, or from Copies entirely unique. Edited, with Notes and 
Illustrations, and a new Memoir of the Author, by J. Payne 
Collier, Esq., E.S.A. Printed for the Club. 1850. 

Literary Remains of King Edward the Sixth. In Two Volumes. 
Edited from his Autograph Manuscripts, with Historical Notes 
and a Biographical Memoir, by John Gough Nichols, E.S.A. 

Printed for the Club. 1857. 


The Itineraries of William Wet, Pellow of Eton College, to Jeru- 
salem, A.D. 1458 and A.D. 1462 ; and to Saint James of Com- 
postella, A.D. 1456. Prom the original MS. in the Bodleian 
Library. Printed eor the Club. 1857. 

The Boke of Noblesse ; Addressed to King Edward the Eourth on 
his Invasion of Prance in 1476. With an Introduction by 
John Gotjgh Nichols, P.S.A. 

LoED Delamere. 1860. 

Songs and Ballads, with other Short Poems, chiefly of the Reign of 
Philip and Mary. Edited, from a Manuscript in the Ashmo- 
lean Museum, by Thomas Wright, Esq., M.A., P.S.A., &c. &c. 

Robert S. Holford, Esq. 1860. 

De Regimine Principum, a Poem by Thomas Occleve, written in 
the Reign of Henry IV. Edited for the first time by Thomas 
Wright, Esq., M.A., P.S.A., &c. &c. 

Printed for the Club. 1860. 

The History of the Holy Graal ; partly in English Verse by Henry 
Lonelich, Skynner, and wholly in Prench Prose by Sires 
Robiers de Borron. In two volumes. Edited, from MSS. in 
the Library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and the 
British Museum, by Prederick J. Purnivall, Esq., M.A., 
Trinity Hall, Cambridge. 

Printed for the Club. 1861 and 1863. 

Roberd of Brunne's Handlyng Synne, written A.D. 1203 ; with 
the Prench Treatise on which it is founded, Le Manuel des 
Pechie3 by William of Waddington. Prom MSS. in the British 
Museum and Bodleian Libraries. Edited by Prederick J. 
Purnivall, Esq., M.A. 

Printed for the Club. 1862. 


The Old English Version of Partonope of Blois. Edited for the 
first time from MSS. in University College Library and the 
Bodleian at Oxford, by the Rev. W. E. Buckley, M.A., 
Bector of Middleton Cheney, and formerly Fellow of Brasenose 
College. Printed for the Club. 1862. 

Philosophaster, Comoedia ; Poemata, auctore Boberto Burtono, 
S. Th. B., Democrito Juniore, Ex Mde Christi Oxon. 

Rev. William Edward Buckley. 1862. 

La Queste del Saint Graal. In the Erench Prose of Maistres 
Gautiers Map, or Walter Map. Edited by Frederick J. 
FuRNiVALL, Esq., M.A., Trinity Hall, Cambridge. 

Printed for the Club. 1864.. 

A Royal Historie of the excellent Knight Generides. 

Henry Hucks Gibbs, Esq. 1865. 

The Copy-Book of Sir Amias Poulet's Letters, written during his 
Embassy in France, A.D. 1577. 

Printed for the Club. 1866. 

The Bokes of Nurture and Kervynge. 

Hon. Robert Curzon. 1867. 

A Map of the Holy Land, illustrating Wey's Itineraries. 

Printed for the Club. 1867. 

Historia Quatuor Regum Anglise, authore Johanne Herdo. 

Simon Watson Taylor, Esq. 1868. 

Letters of Patrick Ruthven, Earl of Forth and Brentford, 
1616 — 1662. Duke of Buccleuch, President. 1868. 

The Pilgrimage of the Lyf of the Mauhode, from tlic French of 
Guillaumc de Deguileville. Printed for the Club. 1869. 

Correspondence of Colonel N. llooke, 1703—1707. Vol. 1. 

Printed for the Club. 1870 — 1, 


Liber E-egalis; seu ordo Consecrandi Uegem et Heginam. 

Earl Beatjchamp. 1870. 

Le Myst^re de Saint Louis, Eoi de Trance. 

Printed for the Cltjb. 1871. 

Correspondence of Colonel N. Hooke, 1703—1707. Vol. II. 

Printed for the Club. 1871. 

The History of the Most Noble Knight Plasidas, and other Pieces ; 
from the Pepysian Library. Printed for the Club. 1873. 

Florian and Plorete, a Metrical Romance. 

Marquis of Lothian. 1873. 

A Fragment of Partonope of Blois, from a Manuscript at Vale 
Eoyal. Printed for the Club. 1873. 

The Legend of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton. 

Paul Bugler, Esq. 1874. 

Correspondence of tiie First Earl of Ancram and the Third Earl 
of Lothian. 1616—1687. 2 Vols. 

Marquis of Lothian. 1875. 

The History of Grisild the Second. 

John Benjamin Heath, Esq. 1875. 



The Introduction (§ III. Editorial) gives all the information 
that seemed to be required as to our reproduction of these 
Poems of Richard Barnfield — this, the spelling of his last 
title-page (1605) and of his "Will, preferably to Barnefeild and 
other variations, being adopted — now for the first time collected ; 
but, inasmuch as for the mere nothing of biographic fact hitherto 
fiuTiished concerning him, we have the satisfaction of pretty fully 
elucidating and illustrating his Life (§1. Biographical), it must be 
permitted us to thank here various friends who have greatly 
aided us in the task of love. Foremost among these is Miss 
C. S. Burne, Loynton Hall, Newport, Shropshire, whose indefatig- 
able intelligence in exploring every available source of information 
cannot be sufl&ciently commended. Hearty acknowledgments are 
similarly due to the Incumbents of St. Michael's, Stone (Rev. 
Eldred Woodland, M.A.), and of Norbury (Rev. Thomas Burne, 
M.A.), and Colonel Chester of Bermondsey, for communication of 
Register entries and other items. To the Rev. W. E. Buckley, 
M.A., of Middleton Cheney, Banbury, I am indebted for the use of 

ii Preface. 

various rare books and for useful references and suggestions, as well 
as for the pains he has taken in drawing up the tabular-statement 
of the Barnfield and Skrymsher Pedigrees from my materials. To 
the Custodians of the unique or extremely rare originals in Sion 
College Library, London, and the Bodleian, Oxford ; and Sir Charles 
H. Isham, Bart. Lamport Hall, Northampton, we would offer our 
best thanks for the use of their several treasures. The Notes and 
Illustrations at close, as in nearly all our works on our early 
literature, are not a little indebted to Dr. Brinsley Nicholson, 
Woodlands Road, Bedhill. 

In our critical examination of Mr. J. P. Collier's erroneous 
(attempted) withdrawal of "As it fell upon a day," &c., from 
Barnfield, effective aid has been found in Mr. Charles Edmonds's 
most valuable and careful Introduction to his charming little 
fac-simile (in his Isham Beprints) of the 1593 Venus and Adonis. 
The fac-similes of the original title-pages and of Barnfield's 
autograph and monogram, and of the arms from a Harleian MS. 
(1241), may be accepted as literally faithful. Other points are 
elsewhere noticed. 


St. George's Vestry, 

Blackburn, Lancashire. 


I. Biographical, II. Bibliographical and Critical. Ill, Editorial. 

I. Biographical. Prom apparently a confused recollection of 
the great historic name of Barnevelt — to whom Motley has given 
such splendid resurrection in our day — the latest editor of Warton's 
" History of English Poetry " has hazarded the guess that Richard 
Barnfield was of " Dutch or Elemish " origin ; and he tacks to it 
another guess, that, as the initials " B. B." occur at the end of some 
encomiastic verses prefixed to Verstegan's Restitution of Decayed 
Intelligence (1605), they must belong to Barnfield; and then 
succeeds still a third guess, as follows : " Verstegan himself came 
from Flanders; possibly the two were brought into acquaintance 
in that way. But in Barnfield's case the change of residence must 
have been less immediate, for surely no author whom we could 
name has fairer pretensions to be regarded as a writer of genuine, 
untainted, vernacular English." ^ All this is without the shadow 
of authority. Barnevelt and Barnfield sound (to a bad ear) some- 
what alike, but are not synonymous. As will appear, Barnfield is a 
very old and 'gentle' English name. The "encomiastic verses" 
to Verstegan it is an outrage to attribute to the poet of " Nights 

^ Hnzlitt's Warton, iv, pp, 439, 440 — with every abatement of errors of omission and 
commission and of perplexing intermixture of former and later materials — a solid and 
useful work. 


iv Introduction. 

were short and dayes were long" and "As it fell upon a day" — so 
sorry are they ; and why single out one of at least half-a-dozen 
" E/. B." contemporary pieces of the same kind that might be 
produced ? The " genuine, untainted, vernacular English " (what- 
ever ' vernacular ' may or may not mean) ought to have suppressed 
these idle " Pleasures of Imagination." But it is easier to indulge 
in such than diligently to search out Pacts ; and so in all too 
sorrowfully many cases traditionary blanks are left unfilled, and 
traditionary errors repeated and increased. Malone's extract 
from the Register of Brazenose College : " Richard Barnefield, 
Stafford, gen.fil^^ ought to have sent any one professing to care for 
or to write intelligently of him to Staffordshire; and one poem 
among his *' Poems in diuers humors " — certainly not in itself very 
memorable — viz. " An Epitaph vpon the Death of his Aunt, 
Mistresse Elizabeth Skrymsher," might have still further helped.^ 
Curiously enough too, from failing to remember this *' Epitaph," 
the late industrious and to-be-ever-gratefully-thought-of Joseph 
Hunter had his finger on a MS. pedigree that would have opened 
up all that it is our privilege to ^ofor the first time, but missed the 
discovery and passed on.^ 

Turning then to a volume of Shropshire Pedigrees in the British 
Museum entitled "The Visitation of Shropshire, taken and made by 
Richard Lee (alias) Richmond Herauld and Marshall to Robert 
Cooke (alias) Clarenceiaux Kinge of Armes, taken in the yeare of 
our Lord God 1564. Augmented by manye Notes and Gatherings 
of Lewis Dunne and others, by me Jacob Chaloner, of London, gent. 
vntiU the year 1620. Copied by me Tho. Hanford of Wigmore 
Ano 1661." (Harleian MSS. 1241, p. 105), we find a somewhat 

^ See it on page 193. 

2 The Chorus Vatum MSS. (Add. MSS. 21487-21493.) The article on Barnfield 
is in 21487. As above, he mentions that in Harleian MS. 1241 is a pedigree of 
Bamfields, but adds he is unaware whether they are the Poet's family. 

Introduction, v 

full and careful pedigree of the Barnfields, which is confirmed by 
others, and in it discover our Worthy. These are the details. 

Starting with a Walter Barnfeeld («i<?), he married Grace, 
daughter to Sir Ralph Pudsey, Knt. They seem to have had a first- 
born son ; but only the second son's name has been preserved, viz. 
Walter Barnfeeld, " 2 sonne, of Powltsmore, in Deuon co." He 
married Ellen, daughter to Sir Nicholas Ettonof Wildemore by the 
Earle of Salop's daughter. They again had a son Thomas Barnfeeld, 

who married Anne, daughter to Ward. Their eldest son 

was Robert Barnfeeld, who married Elinor, daughter to 

Taylor ; and it is with this pair we are mainly concerned.^ They 
had two sons, Richard and Robert. The former ^ is described as 
Richard Barnfeeld of Edgcombe, and married to Mary, youngest 
daughter to John Skrymsher of Norbury in co. Stafford. Their 
eldest son was our Poet, who is entered as Richard Barnfeeld, Son 
and Heir of Richard Barnfeeld of Edgcombe ; and as having had 

» The second son, William Barnfeeld, is designated " of Newport, 2 sonne," his wife 
being unnamed. His son was John (of Newport), married to Alice, daughter of 
Francis Palmer of ArcoU, and their family consisted of Frances: vxor Callcott: HabcU, 
vxor Foulk Roberts : Jane, ob. s. p. [i. e. sine prole'] : Elizabeth, vxor Thomas Nowell, 
and William (of Newport, 1623) who was married to Elizabeth, daughter of Nicholas 
Pope Gierke of y« Kitchen: and had sons Robert, Richard, and John, — all these 
apparently having died unmarried. Above, Arcoll should be Ercall, which name is 
borne still by two villages in Shropshire. 

2 Robert Barnfeeld, "2 sonne, 1604," married Ellen, daughter to Thurstan Woodcock, 
They had daughters (a) Joan vxor Walter Storey, (b) Ellen vxor John Grosuenor, 
(c) Anne, {d) Elizabeth, (e) Mary, (/) Robert. The last Robert " son and heire " 
married Alice, daughter to Aron Hewatt, and had a son Thomas, a Ward. A " 2 sonne " 
Richard married Eliza, daughter to Egington, and had two sons, Robert and William. 

A " 8 Sonne " (of Newport) married Martha, daughter to John of Warr-shier 

[= Warwickshire], and had two daughters, Dorothy and Mary. Of these the 
Qrosvenor family were seated, one branch at Norton in Hales co. Salop, another at 
Bushbury co Stafford. 

vi Introduction. 

two brothers, Robert and Jobn.^ Glancing back on this pedigree, 
Sir Nicholas Etton of Wildemore means Sir Nicholas Eyton of 
Eyton on the Wildmoors — one of the very oldest of the "proud 
Salopian " families, and which was so nobly represented recently 
by the late lamented J. W. K. Eyton, esq. Sir Nicholas Eyton 
married Margaret, daughter of John Talbot, second Earl of 
Shrewsbury, by Elizabeth, daughter of James Butler, Earl of 
Ormond. Margaret, another daughter, married Sir William Yonge 
(living in 1471) of Caynton, a manor in Edgmond parish — Eyton 
being about six miles from Edgmond. Such is a specimen of the 
' blue hlood^ that it were not hard to trace through many families 
for our Richard Barnfield if it were worth while, as it is not. 

Two facts thus far demand specific notice, {a) That Richard 
Barnfield's father is designated of "Edgcombe" in the pedigree. 
This should be Edgmond, a good-sized village to-day, adjoining the 
thriving town of Newport, Shropshire.^ {h) That his mother was 
Mary, youngest daughter to John Skrymsher of Norbury, in the 
county of Stafford. The latter fact calls for similar examination 
of the maternal, as in the preceding of the paternal, descent, 

^ Robert Barnfeeld, brother of the Poet, is described as, in 1604, " 2 Sonne, of 
Edgcombe," and married to Milburgh, third daughter of John Brooke of Madley, esq. 
[= Madeley, a village on the Severn, between Bridgnorth and Wellington.] They 
had two daughters, Anne and Mary, untraced, as is also John Barnfeeld the " 3 
Sonne," and another brother of our Poet. In the Canon Newland MSS. Salt Library, 
Stafford, of Shropshire Pedigrees, the Barnefields are also said to have belonged 
originally to co. Devon; but for Robe];fc, brother of our Richard, read Roger. A 
Roger Barnfield, of Hinstock's Will, is entered in the Act Books of the Diocese (as 
supra), as proved 1619 ; but it has disappeared at the Registry, as have other Barnfield 
Wills. The same MSS. agree with our text (supra) that nieces of our Worthy — 
daughters of his brother Robert — married, severally, Storey (spelled Sturrey) and 
Grosvenor ; and Anne, Thomas Booth of Shifnall, co. Salop. ; and other daughters, 
Francis Symonds and Edward Piers. The Symondses were of Newport, Salop, ancestors 
of the Royalist antiquary, Col. Richard Symonds. 

2 See Appendix A. to this Introduction, p. xli. 

Introduction. vii 

especially as it is even more distinguished. The Skrymshers of 
Norbury Manor, co. Stafford, claimed in the seventeenth century to 
have come of "a noble Scotch family," — meaning the Scrymgeours, — 
hereditary Standard-bearers of Scotland ; and this gains some colour 
from the arms confirmed (not granted) to Thomas Skrymshor of 
Aqualate in 1584, which strongly resemble the royal arms of 
Scotland, being. Gules, a lion rampant or, within a Bordure Vair. 
The first Skrymsher proper was William Skrymsher of North 
Ditton, in co. York, esquire, who married Alice, daughter of 
Thomas Witherington, esquire. Their son was Thomas Skrymsher, 
a Prothonotary of the Common Pleas, who in 1540 completed the 
purchase of the manor from Sir Philip Boteler, to whose family it 
had belonged for at least four centuries. This Thomas Skrymslier 
also purchased very large adjoining estates, including Aqualate, 
Johnston Hall, High Offley, Orselow, and othei*s, which were in 
course of time divided among his descendants, who soon formed a 
large clan scattered over the neighbourhood. 

Thomas Skrymsher, the Prothonotary, died in 1551, and was 
buried at Norbury on the 18th September. His Will, which is 
dated 26th January 1550-1, was proved in London on the 12th 
Pebruary of the year following. In it he desires to be buried in 
a vault in the chancel of Norbury Church under an alabaster stone 
which he had caused to be laid there (now gone), and he reveals that 
he adhered to the Roman Catholic faith by a bequest of " 20 marks 
for the wealth ^ of my sister Selman's soul, and of all Christian 
souls," and the residue of his estate "for the good of his soul," not 
forgetting, however, to leave 6/. 13«. M. for the poor of Norbury. 
Besides daughters, he left two sons, John and Tliomas. John, the 
eldest, succeeded his father at Norbury Manor and Aqualate. He 
was SlierifT of Staff'ordshire in 1567, and married Dorothy, daughter 
of Sir John Talbot, Kut., who died in 1570-1. ller husband 
predeceased her, being buried at Norbury, November Gth, 1570. 
I » weal. Sec Note, page 281, 11. 5-6. 

viii Introduction. 

He left three sons, the eldest, Thomas of Aqualate Hall, where his 
descendants continued till 1797. He married Alice, third daughter 
of James Starkey of Darley Hall, Oulton, co. Chester, esquire, and 
died 1595 ; buried at Porton, co. Stafford. The second son was 
James, of Norhury Manor, who, like his father, became Sheriff 
of StafPordshire 1608. He married, 1st. Elizabeth, daughter of 
E-obert Collier of Darlaston and Stone, gentleman. This *fair 
lady ' (the aunt of the Epitaph already referred to) was his cousin 
(it is believed), daughter of his "aunt" Joyce, the daughter of 
Thomas Skrymsher, Prothonotary ; married at Norbury, 1542 — 
to whom her father leaves 20^. " for the preferment of her 
little daughter." Mrs. Elizabeth Skrymsher died childless, and 
was buried at Norbury 14th October 1594, and in a verse-Epitaph, 
or Lament, was celebrated affectionately by her nephew, our Poet, 
then (as will be seen) in his 19th-20th year. Her husband next 
married Margaret, third daughter of John Poole, of Nether Poole, 
Eastham, county Chester, esquire, which family had been seated at 
Poole since Henry III., and still resided there when Ormerod wrote 
his History of Cheshire in 1816. She also died childless, in 1597, 
and was buried at Norbury, 9th September. The second-time 
widowed husband married in 1598 Eleanor, youngest daughter of 
John Hocknell or Hockenhull, of Prenton, co. Chester, gentleman, 
by whom he had three sons and at least seven daughters,^ one 
of whom (Katharine) is traditionally said to have been nurse to 
King James 11.^ The descendants of the elder son, John, con- 

1 Viz. (1) Dorothy, m. Francis Forster, of Watling-street, Salop, 1622; (2) 
Eleanor, m. Thomas Crompton; (3) Katharine, m. John Elliott, 1624, of Bellos in 
Essex; (4) Sara, m. Bowyer ; f 5) Elizabeth ; (6) Martha, m. Francis Collier; (7) 
Grisell, na. Ralph Greene. More on these onward. 

2 Henry Hockenhnll, of Prenton, great-grandfather of Eleanor Skrymsher, was 
second eon of John Hockenhnll, of Hockenhull, esq. The family continued at Prenton 
till the heiress of it, in the end of the eighteenth century, married Thomas Briscoe, of 
Clayley. Prenton belonged to the son of this couple in Ormerod's time. 



tinued at Norbury till 1774, when Thomas Boothby Skrymsher sold 
it to Mr. Anson (formerly Adams), nephew of Admiral Lord Anson 
and father of the first Viscount Anson. James Skrymsher was 
buried at Norbury 1st July 1619. Of John Skrymsher's third son, 
Richard, nothing appears except his name. In all probability (a) 
Anne Skrymsher, married at Norbury to Edward Barber 11th July 
1563 ; (6) Winifred, married 21st June 1566 to George Coyney 
of Chipnal, co. Salop (about six miles from Norbury), second son 
of John Coyney, of Weston Coyney ; and by whom she had four 
daughters, Susan, Cassandra, Margerye, and Marie; (c) Isabel, 
married 21st July 1566 to William Wolnall [=Wettenhall of 
Lendring, co. Rutland. Visit, of Rutland, 1618], — were daughters 
of John Skrymsher ; but the only one of his daughters whose 
baptism is recorded in the Register of Norbury is Jane, baptized 
22nd August 1552 — probably his youngest child, but of whom 
nothing more is known seemingly. The remaining daughter — 
mother of our "sweet Singer" — Mary, was in all likelihood born 
before 1551, in which year her father came to reside at Norbury on 
his father's death. John Skrymsher and his wife having died in 
1570 and 1571, it may be pretty certainly assumed that Mary con- 
tinued to live at the Manor House with her brother James and his 
childless first wife, her first cousin, Elizabeth Collier. At any rate, 
she was married from there in the following year (16th April 1572), 
being designated in the Harleian MSS. {ante) " of Norbury." It is 
pleasant to find that Richard Bamfield and his wife Mary returned 
from their honeymoon jaunt (if such were the olden usage) and 
took up their residence in the grand old Manor House. Therein 
our Poet was born in 1574.^ The entry of his baptism in Norbury 

^ The engraving of Norbury Manor is admitted into Plot chiefly for the view 
underneath it of the haunt of the black-headed gulls, locally called pewits, in relation 
to his account of their singular habits and as singular ways of capturing them, &q 
The building was pulled down within the memory of old people now living. A 


X Introduction. 

Register thus runs : Ricardus Barnefield baptizatus fuit die mesis 
[June] xiii. 1574/ Our reproduction from Plot's quaint folio on 
Staffordshire " Natural History " (1686) of the '•' Manor House of 
Norbury," shows it to have been the very beau ideal of an Eliza- 
bethan Poet's birth-place ; while Norbury itself is even now a tiny 
out-of-the-way village, hiding itself away some miles from any 
town, and off the high road, and with a primitive population. 
The Brazenose College entry of November 27th 1589 gives *' aetat 
15," so carrying us back to 1574 as his birth-year, in agreement 
with the record of his baptism. Alas ! The married life of Mary 
Barnfield was a (comparatively) brief one. Within seven years 
she was buried, only two days after the baptism of her daughter 
Dorothy, so that little Richard was motherless in his seventh-eighth 
year. But his " Aunt Elizabeth," being, as we have seen, childless 
herself, must have proved a second mother to him and his brothers 
(of whom before)." 

Persistent search and research have failed to discover our Richard 
Barnfield's school and early education. It is manifest that, well- 
connected paternally and maternally, and cared for at Norbury 
Manor House, he would have every advantage that the family 
position could command. The register at Brazenose as " gen. fil." 
{i.e. generosi filius) , is a simple matter-of-fact, but perchance showed 
also family oversight, that so he should be entered on his matricu- 
lation at the University. Strangely enough his name escaped the 

neighbouring farm-house, mainly built of the fine squared sandstone of the old mansion, 
has had legends of ghost-haunting transferred to it. 

^ Norbury Reg. 

'-' The following are the remaining Barnfield entries from the Norbury Register : — 

1572. Richardus Barnefield et Maria Skrimsher matri. cotraxere Aprillis xvi. 

1581. Dorothea Barnefield filia Ricardi Barnefield baptizata fuit Martii xxv. 
„ Maria Barnefield sepulta fuit die mesis p'' [March] xxvii." 

The spelling might read as " Barnsfield." 

Introduction. xi 

indefatigable Anthony a- Wood; and his erudite Editor, Dr. Philip 
Bliss (vol. i. pp. 683-4), has really added nothing to our knowledge 
of him heyond (from Fuller's Worthies) his passing B.A. February 
5th 1591-2, and his performing the exercises for M.A., though it 
does not appear that he proceeded to that degree. His "Encomion" 
(1598) bears that he was " Graduate in Oxford.'* Had he pro- 
ceeded to M.A., most likely M.A. would have been substituted 
for " Graduate." I suspect that, as with the death of Bamabe 
Barnes's father, so with the death of his good aunt, on 14th 
October 1594, Barnfield's university career was arrested, albeit 
his final abiding-place and the details of his Will point to inherit- 
ance of means through his aunt (if not otherwise also). 

What he intended to be when he went to the University, and 
what he actually became when he ceased residence, it is impossible 
to tell at this late day. From the " Epitaph " of 1594 onward, the 
only light obtained is from the title-pages of his successive publica- 
tions. Under our next section full bibliographical details are 
furnished. Suffice it here biographically to recal that " The 
Affectionate Shepheard," published in 1594 anonymously, informs 
us that so early as his twentieth year he had gained access to the 
" magic circle " within which Sidney's Stella still burned and 
swayed with her magnificent intellect and beauty ; for it is dedicated 
" To the right excellent and most beautifull Lady, the Lady Penelope 
Ritch " in a form declarative {meo judicio) of personal friendship, 
the subscription running " Your Honours most affectionate and 
perpetually denoted Shepheard, Daphnis " — a very different style 
from John Ford in his dedication of " Fame's Memorial " as 
avowedly by a stranger. It is also to be remembered tliat in this 
same " Affectionate Shepheard " the young poet turns aside to 
celebrate Sir Philip Sidney, softly, tenderly, and goldenly; and, 
what has been very much overlooked, Tuomas Watson; by the 
sentiment of which celebration one is impressed with a conviction 
that very early he must have moved in the great literary sphere. 


xii Introduction. 

We must pause to read the verse-tribute to Sidney, reserving that 
to Watson for a later page : — 

0, fading Branches of decaying Bayes, 
Who now will water your dry wither'd Armes ? 
' Or where is he that sung the louely Layes 

Of simple Shepheards in their Countrey-Farmes ? 
Ah he is dead, the cause of all our harmes : 

And with him dide my ioy and swete delight ; 

The cleare to Cloudes, the Day is turn'd to Night. 

Sydney, The Syren of this latter Age ; 
Sydney, The Biasing starre of England's glory ; 
Sydney, The Wonder of the wise and sage ; 
Sydney, The Subiect of true Vertue's story ; 
^ This Syren, Starre, this Wonder, and this Subiect ; 

Is dumbe, dim, gone, and mard by Fortune's Obiect. 

Encouraged by the reception of *' The Affectionate Shepheard " 
in 1594, there appeared in the following year (1595) " Cynthia, with 
certaine Sonnets and the Legend of Cassandra," and to the epistle 
dedicatory " To the Hight Honorable, and most noble-minded 
Lorde, William Stanley, Earle of Derby," &c., he adds his name — 
Richard Barnefeild. Herein too he modestly observes " My yeares 
being so young, my perfection cannot be great." Similarly he 
signs an epistle " To the curteous Gentlemen Readers." This 
epistle has a veiled reference to a lady who held supreme love- 
authority, who bore the same name with the great queen — Elizabeth ; 
and of whom we wish in vain to know more. The Epigramme claims 
a place here : — 

One name there is, which name aboue all other 

I most esteeme, as time and place shall proue : 

The one is Vesta, th' other Cupid's mother. 

The first my Goddesse is, the last my loue ; 
Subiect to Both I am ; to that by birth ; 
To this for beautie ; fairest of the earth.^ 

1 See Notes and Illustrations at close of the volume for elucidation of the wording here. 

Introduction. xiii 

Three years later (1598) came '* The Encomion of Lady Pecunia" 
and related Poems — on all of which onward. Biographically it is to 
be noted that in the 1605 edition of " The Encomion," ^ &c. in the 
verse-dedicatory Sonnet, which the Isham MS. reveals was addressed 
to Sir John Spencer— he intimates willinghood to receive of the 
famous Knight's " pecunia;" but it is semi-playfully and in keeping 
with the non-querulous spirit of "The Encomion" itself. The 
" Complaint of Poetrie for the Death of Liberalitie " is dedicated to 
" Maister Edward Leigh, of Grayes Inne," one of a band of cultured 
and godly Puritan gentlemen who have left still quick books, of 
ripe learning and finest openeyed insight.* The " Combat between 
Conscience and Couetousnesse in the Minde of Man " is dedicated 
to " Maister John Steuenton, of Dothill, in the county of Salop, 
Esquire," and the " Poems in divers Humors " to " Maister 
Nicholas Blackleech, of Grayes Inne," — both of these gentlemen 
being now unknown.^ The opening sonnet of the " Poems of 
divers Humors" is addressed to "-Maister R. L.," who was perhaps 
Richard Lynch (or Linch), the poet of "Diella" (1596).3 Barn- 
field's position as a * Maker ' was recognised in 1600 by the inser- 
tion in "England's Helicon" of "Nights were long " and "The 
Shepheard's Sonnet," and semi-anonymously " The vnknown Sheep- 
heard's Complaint." 

* Among the Ashmole MSS. (1153, folios 115-141) is a transcript in cipher of the 
1605 text, with a key, that shows it to correspond exactly therewith. Mr. "W. C. Hazlitt 
(s. n.) describes the title-page as all that is in cipher. 

2 A Sir Francis Leigh occurs in the Barnfield-Skrymsher Pedigrees {ante). These 
"Grayes Inne" friends suggest that Barnfield himself might have been connected 
therewith: but I have not succeeded in finding his name there, although holpoil by capable 

' It is not known for certain. It is to be noted that while Barnfield says •' and 
Both in thee remaine," in the rest he very distinctly and twice puts in apposition R. L.'s 
love for music and his own love for poetry. ' Diella,' however, is so slight a verse-atteni^it 
that it might be as nothing to his musical gifts and tastes. 



xiv Introduction. 

With the publication of the second edition of '^ Lady Pecunia " 
in 1605 the name of our Poet disappears. It is extremely remark- 
able that one of his unquestionable poetic faculty should thus have 
become dumb, in so far as avowed publication went, thus suddenly 
and prematurely. It was prematurely, for in 1605 he was only in 
his 31st year, and, as we shall immediately find, he lived for fully 
twenty years thereafter. These intervening twenty years are all 
but an absolute blank — the one scintillation of light being the inci- 
dentally ascertained fact that in 1619 his father was still living. 
In 1619 James Skrymsher appointed him as one of his executors, 

naming him *' my well-beloued in Christ my brother-in-law 

Mr. E/ichard Barnefield." Our final memorial is his own Will, 
which it has been our rare good fortune to recover from the Dio- 
cesan Hegistry at Lichfield.^ It and the accompanying Inventories 
are verbatim as follows : — 


OF Probate at Lichfield. 

In the name of God, Amen, the 26th daye Februarie in the yeare of the 
Raigne of o'" Soveraigne Lord Charles by the Grace of God of England Scotland 
France & Ireland King Defender of the Faith &c. Anno DmI 1626. 

I Richard Barnfield of Dorlestone in the Countie of Stafford Esq''" sicke 
in bodie but of pfect remembrance make this my last Will and testament in 
manner and flForme ifoUowing. First I bequeath my soule to Almighty God my 
Creator and Maker and my Bodie to be buried in the prshe church of Stone in 
the said Countie in full hope of salvation and of a ioyfull resurrection through 
Christ my onelie Saviour and as concerninge my worldly goods my will and 
mind is that Mr. John Skrimsher of Norburie Esquire his wife and sonne shall 
have iii 1. beinge equally divided betwixt them. Item I give to Mr. Henrie 
Hockenhull my puree Dagg one bedsteed one table my best saddle and bridle. 
Item I give to Mrs. Hockenhull xx s. Item I give to Charles Skrimsher and 
Gerrate Skrimsher either of them xx s. Item I give to mris Elenor Skrimsher 

1 The Registrar (William Fell, Esq.) was more than professionally obliging. 



XX s. Item I give to Sarie Boeyer xx s. Item I give to Elizabeth Skrimsher 
XX s. and alsoe one goulde Ringe. Item I give to Martha xx s. and my gilte 
spoone. Item I give to Grisell Skrimsher xx s. Item I give my grandchilde 
Jane Barnefielde a gilte saulte which was Michill O'Ffeley's if hee doe not 
redceme the same in some shorte tyme. But if hee doe redeeme it she shall 
have the whole xi 1. that he doth owe mee. Item I give to Mr. Martin x s. Item 
I give to my man Richard Cotterall x s. my hare coulred sute and Cloake and x s. 
that I owe him. Item I give to Mrs. Doodie my truckle bedd. Item I give to 
my Cozen Ranforde my two best sutes. Item, I give Margaret Richarsone my 
gonne and x s. It. I give George Hill my ould servant my other saddle and 
bridle. Item I give to everie servant in the house xiid. It. I leave v 1. to 
bestowe of a Dinner at my Burrial. Item I give to the poore of Darlestone xii d. 
a peece. It. I give to the poore of Stone xl s. Ite. I give to John Goodale of 
Waulton my blue breeches and first Jerkine. Ite. I give to my son Mr. Robert 
Barnefield xx s. Item the Residue of my goods being unbequeathed I give to 
Mr. Robert Barnefield and mris. Elinor Skrimsher whome I leave my sole 
Executors of this my last Will and Testament. In witness whereof the daie 
and yeare above written I have putt unto my hand and scale, R. B. 

Sealed and published in psence of us, Henry Hockenhull, Thomas Daintrey, 
Richard Cotterell. 

Proved on the 7 day of April 1027 by the oath of Eleanor Skrimsher one of 
the Executors, power reserved for Robert Barnefield the other Executor. 

John Doodie A true and pfecte Inventorie of all the goodes 

Richard Challenor ^^ Richard Barnefeild Esq' discease<l 

Peter Serisante praysed the xx'*" daie of March Ann. Doin. 

his X mark. 162B by John Doodie Richard Challenor 

Thomas Daintrey Peter Serisante. 
Itm, tuw beddsteds ....... vi* viii** 

item one flockbedd ....... iii» iiii** 

item one bedd one boulster one pillowe one coverlid 

one cadtoaic^ three blanketts .... . iii /. 

* I aui indebted to Mr. A. D. Parker, of the Registry Oftico, Lichfield, for tin* 
following in reference to this word, of which no other example, at least in this fonn, 




item nine Sheetes three pillow beres [= pillow-case or 
pillow-slip, i.e., the linen cover in wliich a pillow is 
placed on the bed] and one Towell 

item fore Shirts .... 

item sayd [ = ditto] .... 

item bandes ruffes handcarchyes and sockes 

item stuckens garters & sockes 

item gloves ..... 

item all his waringe apperell 

item two saddes and bridlels 

item his bookes .... 

item one guilt sault 3 spoone 

item all his glasses .... 

item pewter ..... 

item three chests one deske boxes and table 

item warminge pan and one chest of toole 

item fire shovel tunges and grate 

item bootes shooes & slippers 

item one locke and fetters . 

item one goon and pistall 


viii^ iiii'^ 








viii^ iiii'' 
vis viii*^ 

viii^ iiii*^ 

has been yet discovered : " I cannot read this word in any other way than ' cadwaw^ and 
am of opinion that it is either the contraction or corruption of the word ' cadurcum,' 
and is applied to a quilt or some other article of bed-clothing." 

In the Durham Wills and Inventories, printed by the Surtees Society in 1860 
(vol. ii. p. 129), in will lxii. Testamentum Thomae Brickwell, there is this entry : 
"j whytte caddow and a read 13s. 4d; " and in the Lancashire and Cheshire Wills 
and Inventories, printed by the Chetham Society in 1861 (vol. iii. p. 135), in the 
Inventory appended to the Will of William Glaseor, Esq., Vice- Chamberlain of the city 
of Chester (dated January 17, 1588-9), mention is made of *' a blankett and an Irishe 
caddow checked xiij^ iiij^." Also in the volume of Richmondshire Wills, printed by the 
Surtees Society 1853, p. 287, in the Inventory of William Braythewaite of Kyrland in 
Kendal, is the following entry: "vj cotton blankets viij®; ij fledg blankets v^; ij 
caddow blankets ij® iiij*^." Probably 'cadwaw' is a variant of 'caddow,' Bullet, 
'' Memoires sur la Langue Celtique," Besangon, 1759, fob (ii. 245), gives, " Cadw, sauver, 
defendre, &c. Cadow en Anglois, couvertiue velue, manteau d'Irlande," — W. E. B. 

Introduction. xvii 

item one brush and one eushen i» vi'' 

item in moneys ....... xH. xv» ii^ 

Some Ixvi I. xv" ii** * 

By this Will we are enabled to give the hitherto unknown year- 
date of Barnfield's death, viz. 1627 ; the date of proving and the 
neighbouring register-entries showing that 1626 was our 1627, 
i.e., 1626-7 ; * and here is the entry from the Hegister of Stone of 
his burial under 1626-7. 

Nomina eorum quis sepuiti erant Anno Domini 1626. 
Riehardus Barnefeild generosus sepultus 
fuit Sexto Die Martij Anno supradieto [?] 

Barnabas Willatt Minister. 

James Till \ 

Thomas Amberye / 

Roger Bradburye [ Churchwardens. 

Christopher Dutton 1 

The Dorleston (spelled Darlaston now, as in Dugdale [Mon. vi. 
p. 233, ed. 1830] ) of this Will — one of two places thus named in 
Staffordshire — is " a liberty in the parish of Stone," about one-and- 
a-half mile from " Stone " Station of the railway. According to 
Erdeswicke's Survey of Staffordshire — the worthy Ajitiquary himself 
having been a native of Saudon near Stone — Darlaston and almost 
all Stone were bought by James Collier, who had issue Robert 
Collier, who had issue James Collier (deceased when Erdeswicke 
wrote), who sold Stone and (probably) Burweston to his father-in- 
law Sir Robert Ncedham, of Shavington, co. Salop, and Earl's 

1 The 'some' of the items is only 56/. 3s. lOrf. Perhaps the ' guilt Bnult ' (on 
which xi /. was lent) and * 8 spoone' ought to have been entered at 12/. instead of 2/., 
which with some other slight alterations would bring the value of the separate items to 
the " some " as given above. 

2 Tlie very next column in the Reg. Book begins: Tertio Die Aprilis 1627, still 
further proving that the immediately prcceiling * 6 March * was also 1627. 

xviii Introduction. 

Hyde (now called Yarlet, a good farm near Stone) to his brother 
Christopher Collier. Ninety years later James Collier of Darlaston 
(1686) sold Darlaston Manor to William Jervis of Meaf ord, ancestor 
of Lord St. Vincent, whose descendants still possess it (1875). The 
Collier pedigree supplies a little biographic fact/ e. g. 

James Collier, 

Robert Collier,=^Joyce, dau. of Thomas 
mar. 1542. | Skrymsher. 


.... Needham.= James Collier, of Dar- Elizabeth, dau. of= James Skrymsher; 

laston, in 1583; dead Robert Collier; ra. 1571; ob. 1619. 

in 1593. ob. 1594. 

Thus our Richard Barnfield was first cousin once-removed to the 
owner of Darlaston Hall in Erdeswicke's Survey, and the owner of 
it in his time was his second cousin. Whatever our Poet was when 
he was publishing his Poems in London, it would appear that, like 
that supreme contemporary with whom his name has been imperish- 
ably associated through his " As it fell vpon a day," he retired early 
to the country. The relationship to the proprietors of Darlaston 
suggests that he in all likelihood leased some part of their farm- 
lands from the Colliers, if indeed his aunt (of the Epitaph) did not 
herself provide for his settlement there. It is to be regretted that 
the Registers yield no information on his wife, who must have 
pre-deceased him ; nor is there anything as to either his son Robert 
or any others. The curious articles of legacies permit us to think 

^ There is a difficulty about the Collier pedigree, viz., that while Robert Collier 
certainly married Joyce Skrymsher in 1542 (Norbury Register), and her father's Will 
testifies that she had a daughter ; yet the Chetwynd MSS. in the Salt Libraiy and the 
Visitation of Staffordshire (1583) both make Robert Collier marry Agnes, dau. of Sir 
Thomas Venables of Kinderton (co. Chester), and make Elizabeth, wife of James 
Skrymsher (the Poet's aunt) his eldest daughter by her: saying nothing at all of his 
marriage to Joyce Skrymsher. He had five sons and six daughters, so that it seems as 
likely as not he may have had two wives. 



that the Poet of the " Encomion of Lady Pecunia " was in easy 
circumstances. What would not his books valued at 5«. fetch 
to-day ! 

Other points suggested by the Will may now be briefly noticed. 
Mr. John Skrymsher of Norbury was the eldest son of Barnfield's 
uncle James Skrymsher by his third wife Eleanor Hocknel (or 
HockenhuU). He was baptized at Norbury 23rd October, 1600, 
and was married before his father's death in 1619 to Alice, daughter 
of Sir Francis Leigh of King's Newnham, co. Warwick, by whom 
he had at least one son, John, afterwards Adjutant-General to 
Prince Rupert and Standard-bearer of the Pensioners to Charles II. 
John Skrymsher {pater) followed the example of his father in 
marrying three times, and had children by each marriage. He 
died 25th March, 1667, and was buried at Norbury on the 28th. 
Mr. Henrie HockenhuU was brother to Eleanor third wife of James 
Skrymsher — whose executor he had beeu along with Barnfield's 
father in 1619. Charles and Gerard Skrymsher were the yoimger 
sons of James and Eleanor Skrymsher already named. Charles 
was baptized at Norbury 29tli March 1608. He is named thus 
in his father's Will : "To Charles my son my black nag and 10*. 

to go forward for him My Will is that Mr. Dudson 

of Bromley make my son Charles a scholar fit for Oxford or 
Cambridge." Gerard became a physician, and lived in Wood- 
seaves near Norbury, dying there 2nd October 1700, in his 
eighty-third year. Mrs. Eleanor Skrymsher was the sister of 
Charles and Gerard; the second daughter, but eldest unmarried 
at this time. Baptized at Norbury 20th November 1603, she could 
only have been twenty-three years of age when the office of 
executrix was imposed upon her. This latter circumstance shows 
(or rather hides) a singular family-history, especially taken along 
with the entire omission in the Will of paternal relatives while 
appointing so young a lady as his cousin for co-executor and 


XX Introduction. 

residuary legatee with his son.^ It is significant too that the 
lengthy list of bequests is to the children, brother, and sister-in- 
law of Eleanor (Hockenhull) Skrymsher. We are far off and 
the light dim. Perchance the Poet's own nearer relations were 
well-circumstanced and needed nothing.'^ Sara Bowyer (spelt Sarie 
Boeyer) is probably the same as Sara fourth daughter of James and 

1 This Eleanor (or Elinor), daughter of James Skrymsher of Korbury, became the 
second wife (out of four) of Thomas Crompton of Stone, ob. 167-, and had issue one 
daughter Eleanor, ob s,p. Of a Richard Crompton, " Squire of Stone," it is recorded that 
in 1581 he came into church "with an araunge \_sic : Owen and Blakeway suggest = a 
sword named after the Prince of OrangeJ by his side, and a great bastingdow \_sic: = a 
bastinado or cudgel] in his hand," and called to the minister as he was beginning the 
service, " Sir Hu, come hither; I must first talk with you ere you begin;" and sent 
him to gaol for not wearing a surplice, nor saying the prayers in the accustomed place, 
and for turning himself westward instead of eastward to perform the service. (Strype 
Ann. vol. iii. p. 24, quoted in Owen and Blakeway's Hist, of Shrewsbury, vol. ii. p. 350.) 
In the next century the family opinions had changed; for in Symonds's Diary of the 
Civil Wars, he says, "Thursday, May 22 (1645). Wee marched from Drayton to 
Stone in com. Stafford; his Majesty lay at Mr. Crompton's howse, a sweet place in a 
fyne parke — he a rebell. Friday the army rested. Satterday the 24. Wee marched 
to Uttoxeter." Be it noted that Mrs. Crompton's nephew, while her husband was 
making himself Jinown as " a rebel," was acting as Standard-bearer to Prince Eupert 
and naming his sons Charles and Rupert. 

2 A variety of entries in the Edgmond register show the Barnfield family history 
to have been a chequered one. The name is found among respectable humble farmers 
of their own lands. Generosus even early is the highest, while the Skrymshers are 
always armiger. It is to be hoped Miss Burne may see her way to add an exceedingly 
interesting chapter to Shropshire county history from her extensive collections. The 
Edgmond Register commences in 1669 (preceding ones were burnt by inadvertence), and 
we regret that we cannot utilize entries of marriages, &c., of Barnfields extending from 
1672 to 1826 and indeed onward, neither the Norbury Tithe Book entries of same dates. 
The Parish Clerk of Edgmond remembers "old John Barnfield, as lived where my 
brother George does," i.e. in a little homestead in the village with a few acres of land, 
a horse and cart, and perhaps a cow or two, all combined by the present owner with 
shoemaking. He most probably farmed his own lands, as did John Barnfield and his 



Eleanor Skrymsher, baptized at Norbury 14th February 1605-6 : 
married at Stone to Ludovic Bowier, 1624. Elizabeth was fifth 
daughter, baptized 29th March 1609 at Norbury. Martha was 
apparently another daughter, married at Stone to Francis Collier, 
1638 ; and GriseU still another, and the same as Grisell Skiymsher 
married at Norbury to Ralph Greene 12th June 1634. He was (it 
is believed) of Loynton Hall, Norbury. James Skrymsher, father 
of all these fair sisters, left " my capital messuage in the parish 
of High Offley, co. Staff.," and " all debts owing to me, and all 
goods unbequeathed, to go to all my daughters equally." Cottrell 
was the name of a respectable family at Norbury — yeomen or 
farmers. Doody is a common name about Newport. " My cozen 
Ranford" is untraced. Hill is a very old Edgmond name. Walton 
is a hamlet close to Stone. Finally, the transaction with the Irish- 
man starts questions that it is hopeless to try to answer. 

It may be added that the Will as deposited in Lichfield Registry 
is throughout in the same handwriting, and that a professional 
one, not the testator's. The inference is that the original was 
merely exhibited, as was at the date a common practice, and 
afterwards returned, probably to the executors, the copy being 
filed. Here the name of Barnfield appears only as a monogram. 
It is gratifying that we have been enabled to give an exact fac- 
simile of it, together with a page of the Isham MS. containing a 
(possible) full autograph. A tabular statement of the Barnfield and 
Skrymsher Pedigrees — embracing all the details of this Introduction 
— is given as an Appendix.* 

II. Bibliographical and Critical. In the preceding section 
of this Introduction the successive books of our Worthy have 
been necessarily mentioned. Here it is deemed well to enter 
into more minute details and to discuss certain matters involved 

• See pages xHv.-t. 


xxii Introduction. 

in dispute by a mistaken inference of Mr. J. Payne Collier, 
whereby three of his finest poems have been mis-assigned to Shake- 
speare. The following is the chronological order of the several 
publications now collected, with notes of each, and in the place 
critical remarks and vindication of Barnfield's authorship of " As it 
fell vpon a day," &c. &c. 

1. The Affectionate Shepheard. 1594. Sm. 4to. 28 leaves.* 
A fac-simile of the original title-page is given at page 2. It shows 
that the printer (lohn Danter), who was also the printer for Thomas 
Watson, used a somewhat rude and primitive type. The quaint 
woodcut ornament occurs elsewhere in contemporary books. It 
were waste of pains to try to interpret it. Several misprints 
(" slips " the old apologists called them) of this original edition are 
pointed out in the relative Notes and Illustrations at close of our 
volume. The subsidiary title of "The Aifectionate Shepheard," 
viz. " The Teares of an Affectionate Shepheard," &c. was probably 
suggested by Watson's " The Teares of Fancie, or Loue Disdained." 
(1593.) " The Affectionate Shepheard " was reprinted in 1845, as 
follows : " The Affectionate Shepheard : By Hichard Barnfield, 
A.D. 1594. Edited by James Orchard Halliwell, Esq., E.R.S. 
London. Eeprinted for the Percy Society, by T. Hichards, 100 
St. Martin's Lane, m.dccc.xlv. (Title-page, pp. vi. and 51.) 
Eor a few of our Notes we are indebted to Mr. Halliwell (now 
Phillipps). A number of errors of the Percy text are silently 
corrected from a careful collation of the original in Sion College 
Library. One other copy only is known, viz., that at Britwell. 
We have restored " Hellens Rape, or a Light Lanthorne for Light 
Ladies. Written in English hexameters ; " which Mr. Halliwell- 
Phillipps excluded ; but it is so paged in succession to '* The 
Affectionate Shepheard " that it can be removed without inter- 

^ Mr. Arber, in his introduction to Thomas Watson mis-dates this 1596. 

Introduction. xxiii 

rupting the pagination. Of the 'conceit' of "The Affectionate 
Shepheard" the Author himself furnishes an explanation in his 
epistle "To the curteous Gentleman Readers " of " Cynthia," &c. 

2. Cynthia, with certaine Sonnets, and the Legend op 
Cassandra. 1595. Sm. 12mo. 36 leaves. A fac-simile of the 
original title-page is given at page 69. The publisher it will be 
noticed is Humfrey Lownes, — a name frequently met with in 
poetical title-pages, e.g. Spenser, &c. &c. The printing is neat, 
and on the whole creditably accurate. This tiny volume was re- 
printed not very accurately, and omitting the Sonnets and the 
celebrated Ode, by Mr. Utterson, in 1841. (16 copies). In four 
copies the omissions were in part supplied. All Mr. Utterson's 
errors have been corrected and the entire text is now reproduced 
in its integrity. But here it is necessary to call attention to 
a curious circumstance, viz., that Mr. Collier, in marking Utter- 
son's misprints, curiously enough himself falls into error in five 
out of the seven enumerated by him ; e. g. He notes that 
Mr. Utterson misprints in the Epistle " breed " as " reed," whereas 
it is misprinted " need ; " again, in T. T.'s commendatory verses 
the misprint is not " reave " but " reawes ;" and for " reares " not 
" reare ;" once more, in the same verse Utterson's misprint is said 
to be "waiving" while it is "waiting" for "waining;" and the 
much more serious error of " Here " for " Nere " is entirely over- 
looked — " here " implying an insult, "Nere " a fine compliment, to 
" Cynthia :" further, in the opening of Cynthia (st. vii. line 8) the 
very bad misprint of "Honour" is for " Horrour," not "horror;* 
finally, Mr. Utterson has not corrected, so far as appears, a misprint 
of " that " for "they." Other misprints Mr. Collier entirely misses, 
and, while justly reproving Mr. Utterson for omission of the 
twenty Sonnets, fails to observe the equally weighty omission of the 
famous Ode " Nights were short and daies were long," &c., between 
" Cynthia " and " Cassandra." 

xxiv Introduction. 

In the Epistle to the Readers — as noticed above — Barnfield 
avows the authorship of " The Affectionate Shepheard," which had 
been published anonymously ; and he disavows other " two books " 
that, having borne the initials of B. B., had been erroneously 
ascribed to him; which "two books" were probably "Greene's 
Eunerals " (1594) and " Orpheus, his Journey to Hell." The 
ascription of the former to Barnfield was the more natural in that 
it too was from the press of Danter (publisher of " The Af- 
fectionate Shepheard"). Perhaps the change of publisher for 
" Cynthia " originated in Danter's using of the initials R. B. — 
reverse probably of Barnabe Rich's ; albeit the mere use of R. B. 
can scarcely be described as " fraudently affixed." (Collier's Bibl. 
Account, i. 50 ; iii. 17.) 

In the same Epistle he " vnshaddows " the " conceit " of 
" The Affectionate Shepheard " by explaining that it is " nothing 
else but an imitation of Virgill in the Second Eglogue of Alexis." 
Of the wider bearing of this more elsewhere, in relation to Shake- 
speare's Sonnets. Some errors of the original text are indicated in 
the Notes and Illustrations, as before. 

3. (a) " The Encomion of Lady Pecunia;" (b) " The Complaint 
of Poetrie for the Death of Liberalitie ; " (c) " The Combat betweene 
Conscience and Couetousnesse in the Mind of Man ;" (d) "Poems in 
Divers Humors," 1598, sm. 4to. 31 leaves. A fac-simile of each of 
these four (1598) title-pages, showing the symbol-hand of the pub- 
lisher, John Jaggard, will be found in their places. At page 131 is 
given the title-page of the 1605 edition. Of the latter edition there is 
a slightly damaged copy in the Bodleian, and a fine copy at Bridge- 
water House. Mr. Collier imagined the Bridgewater exemplar 
was unique. Mr. James Boswell, of Auchinleck, reprinted the 
1598 edition, and presented it to the " Roxburghe Club " (1 vol. 
4to. 1816), the whole impression being limited to thirty-five 
copies, as the Editor has written in a gift copy to Barnfield's 


Introduction. xxv 

own college of Brazenose. Both the 1598 and 1605 editions of the 
'* Encomion," &c., without the " Poems of Divers Humors," have 
been reprinted by Mr. Collier. The " Poems of Divers Humors " 
of 1598 contain " As it fell upon a day," and the two sonnets " To 
his Priend Maister B. L. In praise of Musique and Poetrie," and 
" Against the Dispraisers of Poetrie." Earlier, as Mr. Halliwell 
approvingly quoted (1845) in his preface to " The Affectionate Shep- 
heard," Mr. Collier had accepted in his first collection of Shakespeare 
(1843) the fact of the publication of these three pieces in the 
volume of 1598 as proof of Barnfield's authorship. But later he 
changed his former opinion— without stating that former opinion — 
and now as Editor of Barnfield — for otherwise we appreciate too. 
highly the venerable Worker's long and multiplied literary services, 
spontaneously to undertake the task — it is laid upon us to prove that 
throughout he is in error. That full justice may be done to Mr. 
Collier, his final statement of the case— repeated abbreviatedly in his 
Preface to the above-noted reprints of the '* Encomion," &c. — from 
his " Bibliographical and Critical Account of the Barest Books in the 
English Language," 2 vols. 8vo. 1865, is here given as follows : ** It 
is no small tribute to Barnfield that two poems printed by him, or for 
him, in 1598, having in the next year been inserted in Shakespeare's 
' Passionate Pilgrim,' were long thought by many to be the property 
of Barnfield, on account of his priority of claim. In 1598 the fine 
sonnet in praise of Dowland and Spenser, ' If music and sweet 
poetry agree,' and the beautiful lyric, ' As it fell upon a day,' were 
first published as Barnfield's in a work which then bore the following 
title : — The Encomion of Lady Pecunia ; or, The praise of Money— 
qucerenda pecuniaprimum est yVirtiL8 post nummoa. London. Printed 
by G. S. for lohn laggard, and are to be soldo at his shoppe, neere 
Temple-barre, at the Signe of the Hand and starre. 1598." 4to. 
*' John Jaggard, who published the above, was brother to William 

XX vi Introduction. 

Jaggard, who published Shakespeare's ' Passionate Pilgrim,' and 
in some unexplained manner the two poems we have designated, 
' If music and sweet poetry agree,' and ' As it fell upon a day,' 
the authorship of our great dramatist, found their way out of the 
hands of W. Jaggard into those of John Jaggard, who, we may 
suppose, was in 1598 on the point of publishing Barnfield's 
* Encomion of Lady Pecunia ; ' there he inserted them ; but they, 
nevertheless, made their appearance in 1599 in ' The Passionate 
Pilgrim,' by which it was made to seem as if W. Jaggard had 
stolen the poems from J. Jaggard, because the latter had printed 
them as Barnfield's in the year preceding. The reverse was, how- 
ever, the fact ; and the matter stood thus doubtfully until the year 
1605, when Barnfield (perhaps partly on this account), putting forth 
a new impression of his 'Encomion,' with a difierent title, and 
with many important changes, expressly excluded from that re- 
impression the two poems, which he knew did not belong to him, 
and which he presumed were the property of Shakespeare. 

" Hence the especial value of the second edition of the ' Enco- 
mion,' since it may be said to ascertain that John Jaggard, wish- 
ing to swell Barnfield's small volume in 1598, did so by inserting 
in it two pieces that did not belong to the author of the rest. The 
second edition of Barnfield's ' Encomion,' under the title of 
' Lady Pecunia, or, the praise of Money,' was not known at all 
until a comparatively recent date ; and still more recently it was 
discovered that it did not contain the poems to which Barnfield 
seemed to have the earliest title. In 1605 Barnfield was too 
honest to retain what had been improperly attributed to him in 
1598. The sonnet and the poem are therefore not to be traced in 
the volume in our hands, which forms part of the library at 
Bridgewater House." (Vol. i. pp. 57-8). 

In this statement there are unhappily many mistakes, e g. 



1. It is made to seem that the volume of 1598 bore the general 
title only of "The Encomion of Lady Pecunia,'" &c., whereas — as 
at page 186 of our volume is shown — there is a special section 
entitled " Poems In divers Humors," and therein and entirely 
distinct from the '•' Encomion " the poems in question appeared. 

2. It is also made to seem, repeatedly, that the volume of 1598 
was a venture of John Jaggard, and so, that " If musique and 
sweet poetry agree " and *' As it fell upon a day " were inserted 
by him, and by him only ascribed to Barnfield. The simple matter- 
of-fact is that Barnfield himself not only entitles the section 
" Poems In divers Humors," but in a separate dedication of the 
section explicitly states that the poems belonging to it were his 
own, like aU the volume, and intimates to his friend Nicholas 
Blackleech of Grayes Inne, that they were " fruits of vnriper years." 
It will be seen that this alters the entire character of the publication. 
Subsidiarily it is not very logical for Mr. Collier, first to tell us 
that the pieces involved were " two small poems " and then to 
argue that they were inserted to '* swell Barnfield 's small volume." 
If so " small " — and they are small— the " swelling " could not be 
very great. On the other hand, '* The Passionate Pilgrim " was 
an omnium gatherum of floating poems which the publisher swelled 
out from every available source, e.g.^ well-known poems of Marlowe, 
Kaleigh, and Griffin, were all ascribed in it to Shakespeare. 

3. It is further made to appear that the second impression of 
1605 of the " Encomion " reprinted all of the volume of 1598 ex- 
cept the two poems " If musique and sweet poetry agree " and 
" As it fell upon a day ;" whereas, as the Reader can see for him- 
self, of the eight poems of " Poems In divers Humors " only two 
were reprinted by the Author in 1605, viz. ** A Comparison of the 
Life of Man" and "A Remembrance of some English Poets;" 
i.e,t Lines "written at the request of a Gentleman, vnder a 


xxviii Introduction. 

Gentlewoman's Picture;" "An Epitaph vpon the Death of Sir 
Philip Sidney, Knight, Lord-Governour of Vlissing ;" " An 
Epitaph vpon the Death of his Aunt, Mistress Elizabeth Skrym- 
sher," as well as the Sonnet to R. L., and the Ode, were not 
reprinted. Nor is it difficult to see why the two pieces were 
exceptionally added, for they fill up a vacant leaf at the end of the 
new edition of the " Encomion," &c. — a new edition of which alone 
was the motif oi the reproduction; for the so-called "many important 
changes " of Mr. Collier are limited to the changes in praise of 
King James instead of the former praise of Elizabeth. 

4. " As it fell upon a day " is really a lighter versification of 
the sentiments throughout of the "Encomion," as the hastiest 
reader will discern. 

E. g. of the two. Eirst from the " Encomion " : — 

What can thy hart desire, but thou may'st haue it, 
If thou hast readie money to disburse ? 
Then thanke thy Fortune, that so freely gaue it ; 
For of all friends, the surest is thy purse. 

Friends may proue false, and leaue thee in thy need ; 

But still thy Purse will bee thy friend indeed. 

Admit thou come, into a place vnknowne ; 
And no man knowes, of whome, or what thou art : 
If once thy faire Pecunia, shoe bee showne. 
Thou art esteem'd a man of great Desart : 

And placed at the Tables vpper ende ; 

Not for thine owne sake, but thy faithfull frende. 

But if you want your Ladies louely grace. 
And haue not wherewithal! to pay your shot. 
Your Hostes pressently will step in Place, 
You are a Stranger (Sir) I know you not : 

By trusting Diuers, I am run in Det ; 

Therefore of mee, nor meate nor Bed you get 

Introduction. xxix 

who can then, expresse the worthie praise, 
Which faire Pecunia iustly doeth desarue ? 
That can the meanest man, to Honor raise ; 
And feed the soule, that ready is to starue. 

Affection, which was wont to bee so pure, 

Against a golden Siege, may not endure.^ 

Next for the « Ode " ;— 

Whilst as fickle Fortune smilde, 
Thou and I, were both beguilde. 
Euerie one that flatters thee. 
Is no friend in miserie : 
Words are easie, like the winde ; 
Faithfull friends are hard to finde : 
Euerie man will bee thy frend. 
Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend : 
But if store of Crownes be scant, 
No man will supply thy want. 

5. Throughout Mr. Collier assumes it as certain that " The 
Passionate Pilgrim " of 1599 was published by Shakespeare him- 
self, and that therefore it was *' our great dramatist" himself 
who reclaimed the two poems, " If musique and sweet poetry 
agree," and "As it fell upon a day;" which of course necessi- 
tates that he equally claimed as his own the now admitted 

' Long before Bamfield, Himifrey Gifford, in his •' Posie of Gillotlowers " (.580), 
had said in his fine poem " In the praise of friendship " : — 
" But nowadayes desire of worldly pelfe, 
With all estates makes friendship very colde : 
Few for their friendes, ech shifteth for himselfe : 
If in thy purse thou hast good store of golde, 
Foil many a one, thy friendship will embrace : 
Thy wealth once spent, they tumo away their face." 

XXX Introduction. 

pieces of Marlowe and Raleigh, Griffin, and others ! This is so 
absurd, that one admires Mr. Collier was not prevented by it 
alone from publishing his inference. There is not a tittle of 
evidence that Shakespeare had any knowledge of Jaggard's volume 
entitled " The Passionate Pilgrim," and no one of any critical 
capacity will disagree with Mr. Dyce in his verdict : " The 
Passionate Pilgrim appeared in 1599, with Shakespeare's name 
on the title-page, containing some pieces, which are known not to 
be his, and others, which it would be difficult to believe that he 
composed." (Poems of Shakespeare, p. xxxix., ed. 1857.) Earlier 
he had said, similarly : " The Passionate Pilgrim appears to 
have been given to the press without his consent or even his 
knowledge, and how much of it proceeded from his pen cannot 
be distinctly ascertained." (1832 edition of Poems, p. Ixxvii.) 
Of the "pieces which we know not to be his" Mr. Collier stands 
alone in contesting that " If musique and sweet poetry agree " 
and " As it fell upon a day " were his and not Barnfield's. 

6. Mr. Charles Edmonds in his Preface to his excellent reprint 
of the rare Isham copy of " The Passionate Pilgrim " (1599) observes 
effectively : " Although in that age literary plagiarism was freely 
practised, it is hardly likely that an author of repute like Barnfiekl 
would be so bold as to appropriate the whole of two compositions 
of peculiar merit written by another ; or aggravate a fraud liable to 
instant detection by such an unequivocal claim to their authorship 
as he puts forth in his address to Blackleech ; and the improbability 
is still greater when we consider that the person whom he is 
accused of robbing was not only the most noted writer of the time, 
but then actually living, and the object, on the very next page, of 
his fervent eulogy. And that this good feeling was not interrupted 
is evidenced by his reprinting the same eulogy in his second 
impression, which would hardly have been the case had he, years 

Introduction. xxxi 

before, been guilty towards Shakespeare of so unblushing a wrong. 
Moreover, his disinclination to have the labours of others assigned 
to him is shown by his disavowal in his earlier production, 

* Cynthia,' printed in 1595, of two books imputed to him (probably 
Greene's ' Funerals,* 1594, and " Orpheus his Journey to Hell," 
1595), to which his initials R. B. seem to have been fraudulently 
affixed. Nor is it the case of an unknown or incapable poet 
robbing his neighbour of that which he was himself unable to 
produce, for sufficient poetic talent had been shown in his 

* Affectionate Shepheard,' published in 1594, when only twenty- 
one years old, and bis subsequent poems fully sustain this early 
promise." (pp. xviii. xix.) 

7. Mr. Collier — as has been seen — examined Mr. Utterson's 
reprint of " Cynthia " so hastily, that while he missed the Sonnets 
he did not miss the relatively long, vivid, and memorable poem 
of " Nights were short, and daies were long." This it is the 
more important to emphasize, inasmuch as it is identical in its 
whole character with "As it fell vpon a day." Besides, in- 
ternally, rhymes and rhythm and wording of "As it fell vpon a 
day " agree with this and his other pastoral pieces in England's 

Thus, 1. Barnfield himself, and not as alleged by Mr. Collier, John 
Jaggard, published the two poems in question. 2. Barnfield himself 
expressly states his authorship of them in his " unriper " years. 
3. Barnfield himself, by the title-page of the 1605 reprint of the 
" Encomion " and by the character of the few changes and cor- 
rections therein, tacitly reveals that it was in order to address the 
King he reprinted it — not as caring to reproduce the whole, 
any more than did Drayton or Daniel or others, in similar new 
impressions of their poems. 4. "As it fell vpon a day" only repeats 
sentiments previously given in the " Encomion." 6. Shakespeare 

xxxii Introduction. 

never claimed the two poems ; and the materials of the " Passionate 
Pilgrim" of 1599 are a miscellany from various writers. 6. Barnfield's 
fine praise of Shakespeare shows he had too high regard for his 
mighty contemporary to perpetrate such a wrong as to appropriate 
two of his poems, while his disavowal of other " two books " certifies 
his conscientiousness. Pinally, 7. The two poems are exactly of the 
same type with his other poems. Thus the outward facts and circum- 
stances and the internal evidence harmonize in utterly and without 
shadow of hesitation, setting aside Mr. Collier's inference from the 
" second impression " of 1605. 

Besides these broader mistakes and mis-statements there are 
other errors in Mr. Collier's account ; but it does not seem neces- 
sary to say more. 

With reference to the Ode "As it fell vpon a day" itself, 
Mr. Collier has made other mistakes about it ; e. g. because in 
" England's Helicon " (1600) it appears in a truncated form, viz. 
ending with the line 

Careless of thy sorrowing, 

he came to the conclusion that the lines as therein given formed 
and were intended to form, an independent poem, and that those 
which follow in Barnfield's own " Poems In diners Humors " 
similarly formed, and were meant to form, a second poem. It is 
plain that the original collector of "England's Helicon" by an over- 
sight stopped short at the bottom of a page when he transcribed 
his portion, not looking further ; and it is also plain that he added 
the well-known couplet : 

Even so, poore bird like thee, 
None alive will pitty me. 

as feeling the abruptness of the close as he had mutilated it. How- 
ever good in itself, the couplet is not at all called for when the Ode 

Introduction. xxxiii 

is read continuously. Notwithstanding this, Mr. Collier thus writes 
and re- writes : (a) In his first edition of Shakespeare, 1843, vol. viii. 
note. pp. 577-8: "Whilst as fickle fortune smiled" — "It is a 
separate production, both in subject and place, with a division 
between it and Barntield's poem, which precedes it ; nevertheless, 
they have been incautiously coupled in some modern editions ; " 
{b) In his second edition, 1858, vol. vi. p. 692, note — after he had 
changed his opinion that Barnfield was the rightful owner of the 
first portion : " It is a separate production, both in subject and 
place, with a slight division (but no heading) between it and the 
poem which precedes it ; nevertheless they have been coupled in 
some modern editions, most likely because they are found erroneously 
united in Barnfield's • Encomion,' 1598." 

We cannot agree with Mr. Collier in dividing into two this 
consummate Ode, or with his emendation in the Sonnet at end 
of " The Affectionate Shepheard." In line 4 he says, " Surely 
the last line ought to run * Nipt with the frost of thy rath 
winter dies.' ? (Bibl. Account, ii. 166.) But, in order to support 
his new reading, he alters "Wrath's winter" to "wrath winter," 
as though it read "wrath." Had it been so there might have 
been some show of reason, but as it is there surely is none. 
" Fresh " is=freshet, or the sudden tcmpestuousness (as in winter) 
of her wrath. The Author's own text is thus quite correct, viz. 
" Nipt with the fresh of thy wrath's winter dies." 

4. From England's Helicon, 1600. See our Note at p. 196. 

5. The Isham MS. See our Note at p. 200. 

The Isham MS. seems to us to vary in the dates of its hand- 
writing, but to be all. or nearly all, from one. Yet there are care- 
lessnesses of writing that make one doubt that it was a copyist 
following a somewhat puzzling original MS. rather than the Author 
himself. The Lines to Sir John Spenser have the name " Rich. 
Barnfild" so very neatly executed tliat it seems no great risk to 

xxxiv Introduction. 

pronounce it his autograph. Accordingly it is given in fac-simile 
beside the monogram in his Will. 

It is impossible to say whether the Latin (incomplete) lines on 
Tarquin and Lucrece are original or extracted. Perchance he 
sought to celebrate the incident that Shakespeare had just made 
imperishable. There is a snatch of grace in the wording. "The 
Shepherdes Confession " so runs parallel with " The Affectionate 
Shepheard" and other pastoral pieces as to assert its origin- 
ality. (Cf. the enumerated possible " gifts," II. St. vii.-xvii. 
&c.) There are regretable touches in it. The quaint " Laws " 
(p. 209) of the " order of y*' Snuffe " was intended doubtless as a 
satire on the ceremonial of contemporary knighthood, which was 
then a venal honour. The poem of Tichborne (p. 210) gives 
noticeable variations from the common text (as in Dr. Hannah's 
"Courtly Poets"), while the answer is historically interesting if 
harder and harslier than at this softened distance we can approve. 
The Author's patriotic love for the great Queen explains his 
passionate retort. The lines of a " Wife " (p. 213) are found in 
several MSS. anonymously ; but nowhere it is believed the "Answer." 
The Sonnet-like verses to Sir John Spenser, (slightly altered,) 
were prefixed to the 1605 impression of "The Encomion." The 
poem un-headed, "There is a thinge y* much is vsd," has a fami- 
liar sound ; but just now we cannot recall any prior copy of it. 
The " Epitaphium " is a not very correct copy of Ben Jonson's 
famous Epitaph on Salathiel Pavy, a child of Queen Elizabeth's 
Chapel (Epigrams, cxx.) The closing Epigram is of the type of Sir 
John Davies's and Henry Hutton's. 

Turning to these Poems of Richard Barnfield as such — not as 
mere bibliographical rarities — it is unnecessary to detain the Reader 
very long from them. The characterising element is a sweet 
breath of " pastoral," as his friend Meres noted. Whether in "The 
Affectionate Shepheard " or in the Odes " Nights were short " and 



"As it fell vpon a day," or "The Vnknowne Shepheard's Complaint," 
or " The Shepheard's Sonnet," or in his more purely ethical verse, 
or in the " Encomion" and "Legend of Cassandra," his most sponta- 
neous utterances are of rural sights, and sounds, and scents. It is 
like to taking a walk along a May-thorn hedged lane, or under a 
Lime-tree aisle, or couching beside a meadow sloping down to a nut- 
brown river, to take up the pastoral poems enumerated. The tran- 
quillity of ancient life in this our England in the country comes over 
one, and very sweet and musical is the breaking of the silence. It 
were literary sacrilege to quote from any of the Odes. They are to 
be read and re-read in their dainty and freshening completeness. On 
so doing the felicity of T. T.'s commendatory designation of our Poet, 
"icfrA;e-mounting Muse " will be felt. There is no little of the Lark's 
trill and fine tremulousness in him. How inevitable was his pene- 
trative vision of the outward world of visible things will appear, 
if in studying these poems heed be taken to incidental descriptions 
and occasional epithets. Even " The Affectionate Shepheard " has 
rare bits of colour '.e.g. 

Scarce had the Morning Starre hid from the light 

Heaxten^s crimson canopie with stars bespangled .... (St. i.) 

Night her siluer light had lockt in prison, 

Which gaue a glimmering on the christall fountaines. ' 

the Christall of a Pearle-bright brooke, 

Pau^d with dainty pibbles to the brims. (A S. St. xxii.) 

dainty Shelters when the Welkin lowers : 

Sweet-smelling Beds of Lillies, and of Roses, 

Which Rosemary banks and Lauender incloses. 

There growcs the Gilliflowre, the Mynt, the Dayzie, 

( Both red and white,) the blew-veynd- Violet ; 

The purple Hyacinth, the Spyko to please tlieo, 

The scarlet dyed Carnation bleeding yet (Ibid. St xxix-xxx.) 

In which delight feeding mine hungry eye. (Cynthia, St. viii.) 

xxxvi Introduction. 

Like Pearles ycouched all in shining gold. (Ibid. St. xix.) 
Rayning downe pearle from his immortall eies. (Cassandra, p. 106 

Similarly throughout : in most unexpected places there is flush 
of transfiguring^ colour and carol as of a bird. Many of the epithets 
of these poems have since become trite through repetition ; but our 
Poet was among the earliest to select them. It is then as the 
" sweet singer " of the two Odes, " Nights were short " and " As it 
fell vpon a day," and others manifesting the same qualities, that 
Barnfield is to be remembered in our poetic literature. Who values 
Daniell's, and Drayton's, and Constable's, and Herrick's fairy and 
rural poetry must value his Odes and shepherd-verse, alike for their 
dewy brightness and their idiomatic un-archaic English. 

Another element of interest in these poems is his sympathetic 
allusions to illustrious contemporaries. We have already seen that 
" The Affectionate Shepheard " is dedicated to the Lady E/ich, the 
" immortal Stella " of Sidney, and that prepares us for his tribute to 
Sir Philip Sidney. That tribute has been quoted (p. xii.) Its 
companion-praise of Thomas Watson is as follows. (St. xix.) : 

And thou, my sweete Amintas, vertuous minde, 

Should I forget thy Learning or thy Loue, 

Well might I be accounted but vnkinde, 

Whose pure affection I so oft did proue : 

Might my poore Plaints hard stones to pitty moue, 
His losse should be lamented of each creature, 
So great his Name, so gentle was his Nature. 

But sleepe his soule in sweet Elysium 

"Amintas" refers to his '' Amyntce Gaudia" (1592), and his 
"Love" as celebrated in his "Teares of Eancie, or Loue Disdained " ^ 

^ It is the more important to reclaim ' Amyntas ' for Thomas AVatson and not 
Abraham Fraunce, who merely translated (and very badly) Watson, in that Mr. Charles 
Edmonds, in his Introduction to the Isham " Passionate Pilgrime " (pp. xxiii-iv.), has 
assigned the tribute to Fraunce. Beyond all doubt this is an error, as the whole 
allusions prove. 


Introduction. xxxvii 

(1593).^ It is pleasant to have this memorial of personal friendship 
"often proved" and of Watson's ^^ gentle nature." But, passing 
from these almost accidental celebrations, there are the two Sonnets 
of " If musique and sweet poetry agree " and " Against the 
Dispraysers of Poetrie," with their hearty recognition of — not 
Dowland and Linch and King James merely, but— of the elder 
Singers, as Chaucer and Gower, Sidney and Gascoigne. Then there 
is the priceless " A E-emembrance of some English Poets," to which 
Dr. Ingleby has assigned a deserted place in his " Shakespeare's 
Centurie of Prayse " (1874). It must appear here : — 

Liue Spenser euer, in thy Fairy Queene : 
Whose like (for deepe Conceit) was neuer seene : 
Crownd mayst thou bee, vnto thy more renowne, 
(As King of Poets) with a Lawrell Crown e. 

And Daniellj praised for thy sweet-chast Verse : 
Whose Fame is grav'd on Rommonds blacke Herse. 
Still mayst thou liue : and still be honored, 
For that rare Worke, The White Rose and the Red. 

And Drayton, whose wel-written Tragedies, 
And sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies. 
Thy learned Name, is asquall with the rest ; 
Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest. 

And Shakespeare thou, whose honey-flowing Vaine, 
(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine. 
Whose Vemis, and whose Lucrece (sweete, and chaste) 
Thy Name in fames immortall Booke haue plac't. 
Liue euer you, at least in Fame liue euer : 
Well may the Bodye dye, but Fame dies neuer. 

^ Mr. Arber, like others, oTerlooked this fuller praise, and noticed only the incidental 
reference in St. xxxiii. 

xxxviii Introduction. 

It is of moment to note two parallels in his other poems with 
the close of the " Rememhrance." 

Fame and Vertue neuer shall decay : 

For Fame is toombles, Virtue liues^for aye. (A. S. II. St. xxxvi.) 

But Fame and Virtue neuer shall decay, 

For Fame is Toomblesse, Virtue liues for aye. (L. of C. St. ix.) 

From the " remembrance " of Shakespeare, simply as the 
" honey-flowing " poet of Venus and Adonis, and Lucrece, the date 
of this Sonnet must be placed much earlier than its publication 

There are now and again memorable lines and couplets : e.g. — 

would to Grod (so I might haue my fee) 

My lips were honey, and thy mouth a Bee. (A. S. I, St. xvi.) 

Thus doo I honour thee that loue thee so. 

And loue thee so, that so doo honour thee. (A. S. St. xxxix.) 

Oh pittie him, that pittie cranes so sweetly. (A. S. II. St. iv.) 

With Phoenix feathers shall thy face be fand. 
Cooling those Cheekes, that being cool'd were red, 
Like Lillyes in a bed of Roses shed. (II. St. xvii.) 

Oh let me then with Thy sweete lips b' inspired. {Ibid. St. xviii.) 

Pride looks aloft, still staring on the starves, 
HumiUty loohs lowly on the ground. (II. St. xxxii.) 

Humility in misery is relieu'd 

But Pride, in neede, of no man is regarded. {Ibid. St. xxxiv.) 

Thy talke will shew thy fame or els thy shame ; 

(A prattling tongue doth often purchase blame.) {Ibid. St. Ixii.) 

Introduction. xxxix 

Nothing more certaine than incertainties. (A. S. III. St. xi.) 

Whose lonely Cheeks (with rare vermilion tainted) 

Can neuer blush, because their face is painted. (C. of C. St. i.) 

A Saint in show, and yet indeed a deuill. {Tbid. St. v.) 

Besides these there are occasional wise moral saws and counsels 
such as are found earlier in Thomas Tusser and later in George 
Herbert : e.g. — 

Sweare no vain oathes ; heare much, but little say ; 
Speak ill of no man, tend thine owne affaires. 
Bridle thy wrath, thine angrie mood delay ; 
(So shall thy minde be seldom cloyd with cares :) 

Be milde and gentle in thy speech to all, 

Refuse no honest gaine when it doth fall. 

Be not beguild with words, proue not vngratefuU, 
Releeue thy neighbour in his greatest need. 
Commit no action that to all is hateful!. 
Their want with welth, the poore with plentie feed : 

Twit no man in the teeth with what th' hast done ; 

Remember flesh is fraile, and hatred shunne. 

Leaue wicked things, which Men to mischiefe moue, 

(Least crosse mis-hap may thee in danger bring,) 

Craue no preferment of thy heauenly loue, 

Nor anie honor of thy earthly King : 

Boast not thyselfe before th' Almightie's sight, 
(Who knowes thy hart, and anie wicked wight.) 

(A. S. II. St. Ivi.— Iviii.) 

It is scarcely probable, yet not impossible, that the "sweet 
Singer " of Bemerton knew *' The Affectionate Shepheard," but 
sentiment, and form, and rhythm of these and many more that 

xl Introduction. 

immediately follow, unite in recalling " The Churcli Porch," as 
thus : — 

Take not His name, Who made thy mouth, in vain : 
It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse, 
Lust and wine plead a pleasure, avarice gain : 
But the cheape swearer through his open sluice 

Lets his soul run for nought, as little fearing : 

Were I an Epicure, I could bate swearing, 

Lie not ; but let thy heart be true to God, 

Thy mouth to it, thy actions to them both ; 

Cowards tell lies, and those that fear the rod ; 

The stormy working soul spits lies and froth. 
Dare to be true. Nothing can need a lie : 
A fault which needs it most grows two thereby. 

Sir Philip Sidney might have put this into his " Arcadia," of 
the shepherd : — 

He sits all Day lowd-piping on a Hill, 
The whilst his flocke about him daunce apace. 
His hart with ioy, his eares with Musique fill : 
Anon a bleating Weather beares the Bace, 
A lambe the Treble, and to his disgrace 

Another answers, like a middle Meane, 

Then euery one to beare a Part are faine. (A. S. III. St. xxi.) 

And again of the same : — 

What though with simple cheere he homely fares, 
He Hues content, — a King can doo no more ; 
Nay, not so much, for Kings haue manie cares : 
But he hath none, except it be that sore 
Which yong and old, which vexeth ritch and poore. 

The pangs of loue. ! who can vanquish Loue ? 

That conquers Kingdomes, and the Gods aboue. (Ibid. St. xxxi.) 

Introduction. xli 

Robert Burns gave the same opinion in his " A man's a man 
for a' that," when lie asked, " What though on homely fare we 

Altogether it is surely to supply a real desideratum thus to 
collect the Poems of Richard Barnfield, and, without asserting 
* great ' claims for him, to count on his admission to the glorious 
company of England's "Makers." I say no more, for in the words of 
dear old Thomas Fuller, in his dedication of Joseph's Party-coloured 
Coat (1640), — " First, I account it beneath my calling to speak 
anything above the truth : secondly, because it is needless. Let 
deformed faces be beholden to the painter ; Art hath nothing to do 
where Nature hath prevented it." 

III. Editorial. Our principle has been — as invariably — ^o 
reproduce the text of the Author in absolute integrity. The punctu- 
ation especially, but for this, we would have corrected in the text 
preferably. In the Notes and Illustrations errors of the original 
are recorded and elucidations given. Thither the Reader is referred 
for anything else requiring to be said. And so " gentle Reader " 
look lovingly on the volume put into your hands. 

Care not how lowe your praises lye ; 

In labourers' ballats oft more pyety 

Gwl finds than in Te DeunCs mellodye." ' 

Alexander B. Grosart. 

' Donne to Coantcss of Bedford. Poems in Fuller Worthies* Library, ii. 46. 



^ A. 

Edgcomhe and Edgmond. — (page vi. line 15). Prom the 
circumstance that the Barnfields were originally of Devonshire, 
and from the thoroughly Devonian word ' combe ' (in Edgcomft^), 
some may be disposed to question the possibility of such a mistake 
as writing Edgmond for Edgcomhe. But that Edgmond, and not 
the Devon Mount Edgcumbe near Plymouth, was intended, appears 
unquestionably from the ascertained facts tliat the whole of the 
marriages of the Barnfield family point to Edgmond in Shropshire, 
not to Devonshire. Our many entries show that for centuries the 
Barnfields were settled at Edgmond. Moreover, in the Barnfield 
pedigree among the Morris MSS. at Eyton Hall the mistake of 
Edgcomhe does not occur, nor in the Salt Library MSS. — G. 


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Note. — The original title-page of " The Affectionate Shepheard," &c., is given 
opposite in fac-simile. Our text is from the copy preserved in Sion College Library. 
A comparison will reveal that, independent of its mutilations, our revision of the 
" Percy Society " reprint has not been without advantage. — G. 



Amor plus mellis, quam fellis, est. 


Printed by Iohn Danter for T, G. and E. N., 

and are to bee sold in Saint Dunstones 

Church-yeard in Fleetstreet. 


B 2 



Patre louely Ladie, whose Angelique eyes 
Are Vestal! Candles of sweet Beauties Treasure, 
Whose speech is able to inchaunt the wise, 
Converting loy to Paine, and Paine to Pleasure ; 
Accept this simple Toy of my Soules Dutie, 
Which I present vnto thy matchles Beautie. 

And albeit the gift be all too meane. 
Too meane an offring for thine ivorie shrine ; 
Yet must thy Beautie my iust blame susteane. 
Since it is mortall, but thy selfe diuine. 

Then (Noble Ladie) take in gentle worth 

This new-borne Babe which here my Muse brings forth. 

Your Honours most aJBPectionate 

and perpetually denoted Shepheard : 





Scarce had the morning Starre hid from the light 
Heauens crimson Canopie with stars bespangled, 
But I began to rue th' vnhappy sight 
Of that f aire Boy that had my hart intangled ; 
Cursing the Time, the Place, the sense, the sin j 
I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in. 


If it be sinne to loue a sweet-fac'd Boy, 
(Whose amber locks trust vp in golden tramels 
Dangle adowne his louely cheekes with ioy, 
When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels) 

If it bo sinne to loue a louely Lad ; 

Oh then sinne I, for whom my soule is sad. 

8 The Affectionate Shepheard. 

His luory- white and Alablaster skin 
Is staind througliout with rare Vermillion red, 
Whose twinckling starrie lights doe neuer blin 
To shine on lonely Venus (Beauties bed) : 
But as the Lillie and the blushing Rose, 
So white and red on him in order growes. 


Vpon a time the Nymphs bestird them-selues 
To trie who could his beautie soonest win : 
But he accounted them but all as Elues, 
Except it were the faire Queene Guendolen, 
Her he embrac'd, of her was beloued, 
With plaints he proued, and with teares he moued. 


But her an Old-Man had beene sutor too, 

That in his age began to doate againe ; 

Her would he often pray, and often woo. 

When through old age enfeebled was his Braine : 
But she before had lou'd a lustie youth 
That now was dead, the cause of all her ruth. 


And thus it hapned, Death and Cupid met 
Vpon a time at swilling Bacchus house, 
Where daintie cates vpon the Boord were set, 
And Goblets full of wine to drinke carouse : 
Where Loue and Death did loue the licor so, 
That out they fall and to the fray they goe. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 9 


And hauing both their quiuers at their backe 
Fild full of AiTOWs ; Th' one of fatall Steele, 
The other all of gold ; Deaths shaft was black, 
But Loues was yellow : Eortune turnd her wheele. 

And from Deaths Quiuer fell a fatall shaft. 

That under Cupid by the winde was waft. 


And at the same time by ill hap there fell 

Another Arrow out of Cupids Quiuer ; 

The which was carried by the winde at will, 

And vnder Death the amorous shaft did shiuer : 
They being parted, Loue tooke vp Deaths dart. 
And Death tooke vp Loues Arrow (for his part). 


Thus as they wandred both about the world, 
At last Death met with one of feeble age : 
Wherewith he drew a shaft and at him hurld 
The vnknowne Arrow ; (with a furious rage) 

Thinking to strike him dead with Deaths blacke dart, 
But he (alas), with Loue did wound his hart. 


This was the doting foole, this was the man 
That lou'd faire Guendolena, Queene of Beautie ; 
Shee cannot shake him off, doo what she can, 
Por he hath vowd to her his soules last duety : 

Making him trim vpon the holy-daies, 

And crownes his Loue with Garlands made of Baies. 


10 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Now doth he stroke his Beard ; and now (againe) 
He wipes the driuel from his filthy chin ; 
Now offers he a kisse ; hut high Disdaine 
Will not permit her hart to pity him : 

Her hart more hard than Adamant or steele. 
Her hart more changeable than Fortunes wheele. 


But leaue we him in loue (vp to the eares) 
And tell how Loue hehau'd himselfe abroad ; 
Who seeing one that mourned still in teares, 
(A young man groaning under Loues great Load) 
Thinking to ease his Burden, rid his paines : 
For men haue griefe as long as life remaines. 


Alas (the while) that vnawares he drue 
The f atall shaft that Death had dropt before ; 
By which deceit great harme did then insue, 
Stayning his face with blood and filthy goare. 
His face, that was to Guendolen more deere 
Than loue of Lords, or any lordly Peere. 


This was that faire and beautifuU young-man, 

Whom Guendolena so lamented for ; 

This is that Loue whom she doth curse and ban. 

Because she doth that dismall chaunce abhor : 
And if it were not for his Mothers sake, 
Even Ganimede himselfe she would forsake. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 11 


Oh would shee would forsake my Ganimede, 
Whose sugred love is full of sweete delight, 
Vpon whose fore-head you may plainely reade 
Loues pleasure, grau'd in yuorie Tables bright : 

In whose faire eye-balls you may clearely see 

Base Loue still staind with foule indignitie. 


Oh would to God he would but pitty mee, 
That loue him more than any mortall wight ; 
Then he and I with loue would soone agree, 
That now cannot abide his Sutors sight. 

would to God (so I might haue my fee) 
My lips were honey, and thy mouth a Bee. 


Then shouldst thou sucke my sweete and my faire flower 
That now is ripe, and full of honey-berries : 
Then would I leade thee to my pleasant Bower 
rild full of Grapes, of Mulberries, and Cherries ; 
Then shouldst thou be my Waspe or else my Bee, 

1 would thy hiue, and thou my honey bee. 


I would put amber Bracelets on thy wrests, 
Crownets of Pearle about thy naked Armes : 
And when thou sitst at swilling Bacchus feasts 
My lips with charmes should saue thee from all harmes : 
And when in sleepe thou tookst thy chief est Pleasure, 
Mine eyes should gaze upon thine eye-lids Treasure. 


12 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


And euery Morne by dawning of the day. 
When JPhcebus riseth with a blushing face, 
Siluanus Chappel-Clarkes shall chaunt a Lay, 
And play thee hunts-vp in thy resting place : 
My Coote thy Chamber, my bosome thy Bed 
Shall be appointed for thy sleepy head. 


And when it pleaseth thee to walke abroad, 
(Abroad into the fields to take fresh ay re :) 
The Meades with Floras treasure should be strowde, 
(The mantled meaddowes, and the fields so fayre,) 
And by a siluer well (with golden sands) 
He sit me downe, and wash thine yuory hands. 


And in the sweltring heate of summer time, 
I would make Cabinets for thee, (my Loue :) 
Sweet-smelling Arbours made of Eglantine 
Should be thy shrine, and I would be thy Doue. 
Cool Cabinets of fresh greene Laurell boughs 
Should shaddow vs, ore-set with thicke-set Eughes. 


Or if thou list to bathe thy naked limbs, 
Within the Christall of a Pearle-bright brooke, 
Paued with dainty pibbles to the brims ; 
Or cleare, wherein thyself e thy selfe mayst looke ; 
Weele goe to Ladon, whose still trickling noyse 
Will lull thee fast asleepe amids thy ioyes. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 13 


Or if thoult goe vnto the E/iuer side, 
To angle for the sweet fresh-water fish : 
Arm'd with thy implements that will abide 
(Thy rod, hooke, line) to take a dainty dish ; 

Thy rods shall be of cane, thy lines of silke. 

Thy hooks of siluer, and thy bayts of milke. 


Or if thou lou'st to heare sweet Melodie, 

Or pipe a Round vpon an Oaten Reede, 

Or make thy selfe glad with some myrthfuU glee. 

Or play them Musicke whilst thy flocke doth feede ; 

To Pans owne Pype He helpe my louely lad, 

{Pans golden Pype) which he of Syrinx had. 


Or if thou dar'st to climbe the highest Trees 
Por Apples, Cherries, Medlars, Peares, or Plumbs, 
Nuts, Walnuts, Pilbeards, Chest-nuts, Ceruices, 
The hoary Peach, when snowy winter comes ; 

I haue fine Orchards full of mellowed frute. 

Which I will giue thee to obtaine my sute. 


Not proud Alcynous himselfe can vaunt. 
Of goodlier Orchards or of brauer Trees 
Than I haue planted ; yet thou wilt not graunt 
My simple sute ; but like the honey Bees 

Thou suckst the flowre till all the sweet be gone ; 

And lou'st mee for my Coyne till I haue none. 

14 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Leaue Cruendolen^ (sweet hart) though she be faire 

Yet is she light ; not light in vertue shining : 

But light in her hehauiour, to impaire 

Her honour in her Chastities declining ; 

Trust not her teares, for they can wantonnize, 
When teares in pearle are trickling from her eyes. 


If thou wilt come and dwell with me at home ; 
My sheep-cote shall be strowd with new greene rushes : 
Weele haunt the trembling Prickets as they rome 
About the fields, along the hauthorne bushes ; 

I haue a pie-bald Curre to hunt the Hare, 

So we will line with daintie forrest fare. 


Nay, more than this, I haue a garden-plot, 
Wherein there wants nor hearbs, nor roots, nor flowers ; 
(Flowers to smell, roots to eate, hearbs for the pot,) 
And dainty Shelters when the Welkin lowers : 
Sweet-smelling Beds of Lillies, and of Boses, 
Which Bosemary banks and Lauender incloses. 


There growes the Gilliflowre, the Mynt, the Dayzie 

(Both red and white,) the blew-veynd-Violet; 

The purple Hyacinth, the Spyke to please thee. 

The scarlet dyde Carnation bleeding yet ; 
The Sage, the Sauery, and sweet Margerum, 
Isop, Tyme, & Eyebright, good for the blinde & dumbe. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 15 


The Pinke, the Primrose, Cowslip, and DaflPadilly, 
The Hare-bell blue, the crimson CuUumbine, 
Sage, Lettis, Parsley, and the milke-white Lilly, 
The Rose and speckled flowre cald Sops-in-wine, 
Pine pretie King-cups, and the yellow Bootes, 
That growes by Riuers and by shallow Brookes. 


And manie thousand moe (I cannot name) 

Of hearbs and flowers that in gardens grow, 

I haue for thee ; and Coneyes that be tame. 

Young Babbets, white as Swan, and blacke as Crow, 
Some speckled here and there with daintie spots : 
And more, I haue two mylch and milke-white Groates. 


All these and more He giue thee for thy love ; 
If these and more, may tyce thy loue away : 
I haue a pidgeon-house, in it a doue. 
Which I loue more than mortall tongue can say : 

And last of all. He giue thee a little Lambe 

To play withall, new weaned from her Dam. 


But if thou wilt not pittie my Complaint, 

My Teares, nor Vowes, nor Oathes, made to thy beautie : 

What shall I doo ? but languish, die, or faint. 

Since thou dost scorne my Teares, and my Soules Duetie : 

And Teares contemned, Vowes and Oaths must faile ; 

And where Teares cannot, nothing can preuaile. 

16 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Compare the loue of faire Queene Guendolin 

With mine, and thou shalt [s]ee how she doth loue thee : 

I loue thee for thy qualities diuine, 

But shee doth loue another Swaine aboue thee : 

I loue thee for thy gifts, she for hir pleasure ; 

I for thy Vertue, she for Beauties treasure. 


And alwaies (I am sure) it cannot last, 
But sometime Nature will denie those dimples : 
Insteed of Beautie (when thy Blossom's past) 
Thy face will be deformed, full of wrinckles : 
Then She that lou'd thee for thy Beauties sake, 
When Age drawes on, thy loue will soone forsake. 


But that I lou'd thee for thy gifts diuine. 
In the December of thy Beauties waning. 
Will still admire (with ioy) those louely eine, 
That now behold me with their beauties baning : 
Though lanuarie will neuer come againe. 
Yet Aprill yeres will come in showers of raine. 


When will my May come, that I may embrace thee ? 
When will the hower be of my soules ioying ? 
Why dost thou seeke in mirth still to disgrace mee ? 
Whose mirth's my health, whose griefe's my harts annoying 

Thy bane my bale, thy blisse my blessednes, 

Thy ill my hell, thy weale my welfare is. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 17 


Thus doo I honour thee that loue thee so, 
And loue thee so, that so doo honour thee 
Much more than anie mortall man doth know, 
Or can discerne by Loue or lealozie : 

But if that thou disdainst my louing euer ; 

Oh happie I, if I had loued never. Einis. 

Plus/ellia quam mellis Amor. 



Next Morning, when the golden Sunne was risen. 
And new had hid good morrow to the Mountaines ; 
When Night her siluer light had lockt in prison, 
Which gaue a glimmering on the christall fountaines 
Then ended sleepe : and then my cares began, 
Eu'n with the vprising of the siluer Swan. 

Oh glorious Sunne quoth I (viewing the Sunne), 
That lightenst euerie thing but me alone : 
Why is my Summer season almost done ? 
My Spring-time past, and Ages Autumne gone ? 
My Haruest's come, and yet I reapt no come : 
My loue is great, and yet I am forlorne. 


18 The Affectionate Shejpheard. 


Witnes these watrie eyes my sad lament 
(Receauing cisternes of my ceaseles teares), 
Witnes my bleeding hart my soules intent, 
Witnes the weight distressed JDaphnis beares : 

Sweet Loue, come ease me of thy burthens paine; 

Or els I die, or else my hart is slaine. 


And thou, Loue-scorning Boy, cruell, vnkinde ; 
Oh let me once againe intreat some pittie : 
May be thou wilt relent thy marble minde, 
And lend thine eares vnto my dolefull Dittie : 

Oh pittie him, that pittie craues so sweetly ; 

Or else thou shalt be neuer named meekly. 


If thou wilt loue me, thou shalt be my Boy, 
My sweet Delight, the Comfort of my minde, 
My loue, my done, my Sollace, and my loy ; 
But if I can no grace nor mercie finde, 
He goe to Caucasus to ease my smart, 
And let a Vulture gnaw upon my hart. 


Yet if thou wilt but show me one kinde looke 
(A small reward for my so great affection), 
He graue thy name in Beauties golden Booke, 
And shrowd thee under Sellicons protection : 
Making the Muses chaunt thy louely prayse : 
(For they delight in Shepheards lowly layes). 

TJie Affectionate Shepheard. 19 


And when th'art wearie of thy keeping Sheepe 
Upon a lonely Downe, (to please thy minde,) 
He giue thee fine ruffe-footed Doues to keepe, 
And pretie Pidgeons of another kinde : 

A Robbin-redbrest shall thy Minstrell bee, 

Chirping thee sweet and pleasant Melodic. 


Or if thou wilt goe shoote at little Birds, 

With bow and boult (the Thrustle-cocke and Sparrow), 

Such as our Countrey hedges can afford' s ; 

I haue a fine bowe, and an yuorie arrow : 

And if thou misse, yet meate thou shalt [not] lacke, 

He hang a bag and bottle at thy backe. 


Wilt thou set springes in a frostie Night, 
To catch the long-billd Woodcocke and the Snype ? 
(By the bright glimmering of the Starrie light) 
The Partridge, Phaesant, or the greedie Grype ? 

He lend thee lyme- twigs, and fine sparrow calls, 

Wherewith the Powler silly Birds inthralls. 


Or in a mystic morning if thou wilt 
Make pitfalls for the Larke and Pheldif are ; 
Thy prop and sweake shall be both ouer-guilt : 
With Cypariaaus selfe thou shalt compare 

For gins and wyles, the Oozels to beguile ; 

Whilst thou vnder a bush shalt sit and smile. 

D 2 

20 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Or with Hare-pypes (set in a muset hole) 

Wilt thou deceaue the deep-earth-deluing Coney ? 

Or wilt thou in a yellow Boxen bole, 

Taste with a woodden splent the sweet lythe honey ? 

Clusters of crimson Grapes He pull thee downe ; 

And with Vine-leaues make thee a louely Crowne. 


Or wilt thou drinke a cup of new-made Wine 
Froathing at top, mixt with a dish of Creame ; 
And Straw-berries, or Bil-berries in their prime, 
Bath'd in a melting Sugar- Candie streame : 
Bunnell and Perry I haue for thee (alone) 
When Vynes are dead, and all the Grapes are gone. 


I haue a pleasant noted Nightingale 
(That sings as sweetly as the siluer Swan) 
Kept in a Cage of bone ; as white as whale. 
Which I with singing of Philemon wan : 

Her shalt thou haue, and all I haue beside; 

If thou wilt be my Boy, or els my Bride. 


Then will I lay out all my Lardarie 

(Of Cheese, of Cracknells, Curds and Clowted- creame) 

Before thy male-content ill-pleasing eye : 

But why doo I of such great follies dreame ? 

Alas, he will not see my simple Coate ; 

Por all my speckled Lambe, nor milk-white Goate. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 21 


Against my Birtli-day thou shalt be my guest : 
Weele have Greene-cheeses and fine Silly-bubs ; 
And thou shalt be the chiefe of all my feast. 
And I will giue thee two fine pretie Cubs, 

With two yong Whelps, to make thee sport withall, 

A golden Racket, and a Tennis-ball. 


A guilded Nutmeg, and a race of Ginger, 
A silken Girdle, and a drawn-worke Band, 
Cuffs for thy wrists, a gold Ring for thy finger. 
And sweet Rose-water for thy Lilly -white hand, 

A Purse of silke, bespangd with spots of gold. 

As braue a one as ere thou didst behold. 


A paire of kniues, a greene Hat and a Feather, 
New Gloues to put upon thy milk-white hand 
He giue thee, for to keep thee from the weather ; 
With Phoenix feathers shall thy Face be fand, 

Cooling those Cheekes, that being cool'd wexe red, 

Like Lillyes in a bed of Roses shed. 


Why doo thy Corall lips disdaine to kisse, 
And sucke that Sweete which manie haue desired ? 
That Baulme my Bane, that meancs would mend my misse : 
Oh let me then with thy sweete Lips b'inspired ; 
When thy Lips touch my Lips, my Lips will turne 
To Corall too, and, being cold yce, will burne. 


22 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Why shoulde thy sweete loue-locke hang dangling downe, 
Kissing thy girdle-steed with falling pride ? 
Although thy Skin be white, thy haire is browne : 
Oh let not then thy haire thy beautie hide ; 
Cut off thy Locke, and sell it for gold wier : 
(The purest gold is tryde in hottest fier). 


Eaire-long-haire-wearing Absolon was kild. 

Because he wore it in a brauerie : 

So that which gracde his Beautie, Beautie spild, 

Making him subiect to vile slauerie, 

In being hangd : a death for him too good, 

That sought his owne shame and his Pathers blood. 


Againe, we read of old king Triamus, 
(The haplesse syre of valiant Hector slaine) 
That his haire was so long and odious 
In youth, that in his age it bred his paine : 
For if his haire had not been half e so long, 
His life had been, and he had had no wrong. 


For when his stately Citie was destroyd, 

(That Monument of great Antiquitie) 

When his poore hart (with griefe and sorrow cloyd) 

Fled to his Wife (last hope in miserie) ; 

Fyrrhus (more hard than Adamantine rockes) 
Held him and halde him by his aged lockes. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. * 23 


These two examples by the way I show 
To proue th'indecencie of mens long haire : 
Though I could tell thee of a thousand moe, 
Let these suffice for thee (my louely Paire) 

Whose eye's my starre ; whose smiling is my Sunne ; 

Whose loue did ende before my ioyes begunne. 


Pond loue is blinde, and so art thou (my Deare) 
For thou seest not my Loue and great desart ; 
Blinde Loue is fond, and so thou dost appeare ; 
Eor fond, and blinde, thou greeust my greening hart : 

Be thou fond-blinde, blinde-fond, or one, or all ; 

Thou art my Loue, and I must be thy thrall. 


Oh lend thine yuorie fore-head for Loues Booke, 
Thine eyes for candles to behold the same ; 
That when dim-sighted ones therein shall looke 
They may discerne that proud disdainefuU Dame ; 

Yet claspe that Booke, and shut that Cazement light ; 

Lest th'one obscurde, the other shine too bright. 


Sell thy sweet breath to th' daintie Musk-ball-makers, 

Yet sell it so as thou mayst soone redeeme it : 

Let others of thy beauty be pertakers. 

Else none but Daphnis will so well esteeme it. 

For what is Beauty, except it be well knowne ? 

And how can it be knowne, except first showne ? 

24 * The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Learne of the Gentlewomen of this Age, 
That set their Beauties to the open view, 
Making Disdaine their Lord, true Loue their Page ; 
A Custome Zeale doth hate, Desert doth rue : 
Learne to looke red, anon waxe pale and wan, 
Making a mocke of Loue, a scorne of man. 


A candle light, and couer'd with a vaile. 
Doth no man good, because it giues no light ; 
So Beauty of her beauty seemes to faile. 
When being not seene it cannot shine so bright : 
Then show thyselfe and know thyselfe withall. 
Lest climing high thou catch too great a fall. 


Oh foule eclipser of that fayre sun- shine. 

Which is intitled Beauty in the best ; 

Making that mortall, which is els diuine. 

That staines the fayre which Women 'steeme not least : 
Get thee to Hell againe (from whence thou art) 
And leave the Center of a Woman's hart. 


Ah be not staind (sweet Boy) with this vilde spot, 

Indulgence Daughter, Mother of Mischaunce ; 

A blemish that doth every beauty blot ; 

That makes them loath'd, but neuer doth advaunce 
Her Clyents, fautors, friends ; or them that loue her, 
And hates them most of all, that most reproue her. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 25 


Remember Age, and thou canst not be prowd, 
Por age puis downe the pride of euery man ; 
In youthf ull yeares by Nature tis allowde 
To haue self e-will, doo Nurture what she can ; 

Nature and Nurture once together met, 

The Soule and shape in decent order set. 


Pride looks aloft, still staring on the starres, 
Humility looks lowly on the ground ; 
Th' one menaceth the Gods with ciuill warres, 
The other toyles till he have Vertue found : 

His thoughts are humble, not aspiring hye ; 

But Pride looks haughtily with scomefull eye. 


Humillity is clad in modest weedes, 

But Pride is braue and glorious to the show ; 

Humillity his friends with kindnes f cedes, 

But Pride his friends (in neede) will neuer know : 

Supplying not their wants, but them disdaining ; 

Whilst they to pitty neuer neede complayning. 


Humillity in misery is relieu'd. 
But Pride in neede of no man is regarded ; 
Pitty and Mercy weepe to see him grieu'd 
That in distresse had them so well rewarded : 

But Pride is scornd, contcmnd, disdaind, derided, 

Whilst Humblenes of all things is prouided. 

26 TTie Affectionate Shepheard. 


Oh then be humble, gentle, meeke, and milde ; 
So shalt thou be of euery mouth commended ; 
Be not disdainfull, cruell, proud (sweet childe), 
So shalt thou be of no man much condemned ; 

Care not for them that Vertue doo despise ; 

Vertue is loathde of fooles ; loude of the wise. 


O faire Boy, trust not to thy Beauties wings. 
They cannot carry thee above the Sunne : 
Beauty and wealth are transitory things 
(For all must ende that euer was begunne), 
But Fame and Vertue neuer shall decay : 
For Fame is toombles, Vertue lines for aye. 


The snow is white, and yet the pepper 's blacke, 
The one is bought, the other is contemned : 
Pibbles we haue, but store of leat we lacke. 
So white comparde to blacke is much condemned. 
We doo not praise the Swanne because shees white. 
But for she doth in Musique much delite. 


And yet the siluer-noted nightingale, 
Though she be not so white, is more esteemed ; 
Sturgion is dun of hew, white is the Whale, 
Yet for the daintier Dish the first is deemed : 

What thing is whiter than the milke-bred Lilly ? 

That knowes it not for naught, what man so silly ? 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 27 


Yea, what more noysomer vnto the smell 
Than Lillies are ? What's sweeter then the Sage ? 
Yet for pure white the Lilly beares the Bell, 
Till it be faded through decaying Age. 

House-Doues are white, and Oozels Blacke-birds bee ; 

Yet what a difference in the taste, we see. 


Compare the Cow and Calfe, with Ewe and Lambe ; 
Rough hayrie Hydes, with softest downy Pell ; 
Heefar and Bull with Weather and with Ramme, 
And you shall see how far they doo ex cell ; 

White Kine with blacke, blacke Coney- skins with gray, 

Kine, nesh and strong ; skins, deare and cheape alway. 


The whitest siluer is not alwaies best, 

Lead, Tynne and Pewter are of base esteeme; 

The yellow burnisht gold, that comes from th' East, 

And West (of late inuented), may beseeme 

The worlds ritch Treasury, or My das eye ; 

(The Bitch mans God, poore mans felicitie). j 

< i 

XLII. • 

Bugle and leat, with snow and Alablaster 

I will compare : White Dammasin with blacke ; 

Bullas and wheaton Plumbs (to a good Taster), 

The ripe red Cherries haue the sweetest smacke : [ 

When they be greene and young, th' are sowre & naught ; 

But being ripe, with eagemes th' are baught. 

£ 2 

28 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Compare the Wyld cat to the brownish Beaver, 
Running for life, with hounds pursued sore ; 
When Hunts-men of her precious Stones bereaue her 
(Which with her teeth sh' had bitten off before) : 
Restoratiues and costly curious Pelts 
Are made of them, and rich imbroydred Belts. 


To what use serues a peece of crimbling Chalke ? 
The Agget stone is white, yet good for nothing : 
Pie, fie, I am asham'd to heare thee talke ; 
Be not so much of thine owne Image doating : 

So faire Narcissus lost his loue and life. 

(Beautie is often with itselfe at strife.) 


Right Diamonds are of a russet hieu, 
The brightsome Carbuncles are red to see too. 
The Sapphyre stone is of a watchet blue, 
(To this thou canst not chuse but soone agree to) : 
Pearles are not white but gray. Rubies are red : 
In praise of Blacke what can be better sed ? 


For if we doo consider of each mortall thing 
That flyes in welkin, or in waters swims. 
How euerie thing increaseth with the Spring, 
And how the blacker still the brighter dims : 
We cannot chuse, but needs we must confesse. 
Sable excels milk-white in more or lesse. 

Tlie Affectionate Shepheard. 29 


As for example, in the christall cleare 
Of a sweete streame, or pleasant running Riuer, 
Where thousand formes of fishes will appeare, 
(Whose names to thee I cannot now deliver :) 

The blacker still the brighter haue disgrac'd, 

For pleasant profit, and delicious taste. 


Salmon and Trout are of a ruddie colour. 

Whiting and Dare is of a milk-white hiew : 

Nature by them (perhaps) is made the fuller. 

Little they nourish, be they old or new : 

Carp, Loach, Tench, Eeles (though black & bred in mud), 
Delight the tooth with taste, and breed good blud. 


Innumerable be the kindes, if I could name them ; 
But I a Shepheard and no Fisher am : 
Little it skils whether I praise or blame them, 
I onely meddle with my Ew and Lamb : 

Yet this I say, that blacke the better is. 

In birds, beasts, frute, stones, flowres, herbs, mettals, fish. 


And last of all, in blacke there doth appeare 
Such qualities as not in y vorie ; 
Black cannot blush for shame, looke pale for fear. 
Scorning to weare another liuorie. 

Blacke is the badge of sober Modestie, 

The wonted weare of ancient Grauctie. 

30 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


The learned Sisters sute themselues in blacke, 
Learning abandons white and lighter hues : 
Pleasure and Pride light colours neuer lacke, 
But true E/oligion doth such Toyes refuse : 

Vertue and Grauity are sisters growne, 

Since blacke by both, and both by blacke are knowne. 


White is the colour of each paltry Miller, 
White is the Ensigne of each common Woman ; 
White is white Vertues for blacke Vyces Piller, 
White makes proud fooles inferiour vnto no man : 
White, is the White of Body, blacke of Minde 
(Vertue we seldome in white Habit finde). 


Oh, then be not so proud because th' art fayre, 

Vertue is onely the ritch gift of God : 

Let not selfc-pride thy vertues name impayre, 

Beate not greene youth with sharpe Bepentance Bod : 

(A !Fiend, a Monster, a mishapen Diuel ; 

Vertues foe, Vyces friend, the roote of euill). 


Apply thy minde to be a vertuous man, 

Auoyd ill company (the spoyle of youth) ; 

To follow Vertues Lore doo what thou can 

(Whereby great profit vnto the ensuth) : 
Beade Bookes, hate Ignorance (the foe to art. 
The Damme of Errour, Enuy of the hart). 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 31 


Serue Jove (vpon thy knees) both day and night. 
Adore his Name aboue all things on Earth ; 
So shall thy vowes be gracious in his sight, 
So little Babes are blessed in their Birth : 

Thinke on no worldly woe, lament thy sin ; 

(For lesser cease, when greater grief es begin). 


Sweare no vaine oathes ; heare much, but little say ; 
Speake iU of no man, tend thine owne affaires. 
Bridle thy wrath, thine angrie mood delay ; 
(So shall thy minde be seldome cloyd with cares : ) 

Be milde and gentle in thy speech to all, 

Refuse no honest gaine when it doth fall. 


Be not beguild with words, proue not vngratefull, 
E/cleeue thy neighbour in his greatest need. 
Commit no action that to all is hatefull. 
Their want with welth, the poore with plentie feed : 

Twit no man in the teeth with what th* hast done ; 

Remember flesh is fraile, and hatred shunne. 


Leaue wicked things, which Men to mischiefe moue, 

(Least crosse mis-hap may thee in danger bring), 

Craue no preferment of thy heauenly loue. 

Nor anie honor of thy earthly King : 

Boast not thyselfe before th* Almighties sight, 
(Who knowes thy hart, and anie wicked wight). 

32 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Be not offensiue to the peoples eye, 
See that thy praiers harts true zeale affords, 
Scorne not a man that's falne in miserie, 
Esteeme no tatling tales, no babling words ; 
That reason is exiled alwaies thinke. 
When as a drunkard rayles amidst his drinke. 


Use not thy lonely lips to loathsome lyes, 
By craf tie meanes increase no worldly wealth ; 
Striue not with mightie Men (whose fortune flies). 
With temp'rate diet nourish wholesome health : 

Place well thy words, leaue not thy frend for gold ; 

Eirst trie, then trust ; in ventring be not bold. 


In JPan repose thy trust ; extoU his praise, 
(That neuer shall decay, but euer lines) : 
Honor thy parents (to prolong thy dayes), 
Let not thy left hand know what right hand giues : 
Erom needie men turn not thy face away, 
(Though Charitie be now yclad in clay). 


Heare Shepheards oft (thereby great wisdome growes), 
With good advice a sober answere make : 
Be not remoou'd with euery winde that blowes, 
(That course doo onely sinfuU sinners take). 

Thy talke will shew thy fame or els thy shame ; 

(A pratling tongue doth often purchase blame.) 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 33 


Obtaine a faithful! frend that will not faile thee, 
Think on thy Mother's paine in her child-bearing, 
Make no debate, least quickly thou bewaile thee, 
Visit the sicke with comfortable chearing : 
Pittie the prisner, helpe the fatherlesse, 
Revenge the Widdowes wrongs in her distresse. 


Thinke on thy graue, remember still thy end, 
Let not thy winding-sheete be staind with guilt. 
Trust not a fained reconciled frend. 
More than an open foe (that blood hath spilt), 

(Who tutcheth pitch, with pitch shalbe defiled). 

Be not with wanton companie beguiled. 


Take not a flattring woman to thy wife, 
A shameles creature, full of wanton words, 
(Whose bad, thy good ; whose lust will end thy life. 
Cutting thy hart with sharpe two-edged knife) : 
Cast not thy minde on her whose lookes allure, 
But she that shines in Truth and Vertue pure. 


Praise not thyself e, let other men commend thee ; 
Beare not a flattring tongue to glauer anie. 
Let Parents due correction not oflend thee : 
Rob not thy neighbor, sceke the loue of mania ; 

Hate not to heare good Counsell giuen thee, 

Lay not thy money unto Vsurie. 


34 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


E-estraine thy steps from too much libertie, 
fulfill not th' enuious mans malitious minde ; 
Embrace thy Wife, live not in lecherie ; 
Content thy self e with what Pates haue assignde : 

Be rul'd by Reason, Warning dangers saue ; 

True Age is reuerend worship to thy graue. 


Be patient in extreame Aduersitie, 

(Mans chiefest credit growes by dooing well). 

Be not high-minded in Prosperitie ; 

Ealshood abhorre, no lying fable tell. 

Giue not thyselfe to Sloth, (the sinke of Shame, 
The moath of Time, the enemie to Pame). 


This leare I learned of a Bel-dame Trot, 
(When I was yong and wylde as now thou art) : 
But her good counsell I regarded not, 
I markt it with my eares, not with my hart : 
But now I finde it too-too true (my Sonne), 
When my Age-withered Spring is almost done. 


Behold my gray head, full of siluer haires, 
My wrinckled skin, deepe furrowes in my face : 
Cares bring Old- Age, Old- Age increaseth cares ; 
My Time is come, and I haue run my race : 
Winter hath snow'd vpon my hoarie head, 
And with my Winter all my ioyes are dead. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 35 


And thou loue-hating boy, (whom once I loued), 

Parewell, a thousand-thousand times farewell ; 

My Teares the Marble Stones, to ruth haue moved ; 

My sad Complaints the babling Ecchoes tell : 

And yet thou wouldst take no compassion on mee, 
Scorning that crosse which Loue hath laid vpon mee. 


I'he hardest Steele with fier doth mend his misse, 
Marble is mollifyde with drops of E-aine ; 
But thou (more hard than Steele or Marble is) 
Doost scorne my Teares, and my true loue disdaine, 

Which for thy sake shall euerlasting bee, 

Wrote in the Annalls of Eternitie. 


By this, the Night, (with darknes ouer-spred), 

Had drawne the curtaines of her cole-blacke bed ; 

And Cynthia, muffling her face with a clowd, 

(Lest all the world of her should be too prowd) 
Had taken conge of the sable Night, 
(That wanting her cannot be halfe so bright). 


When I poore forlorn man and outcast creature, 
(Despairing of my Loue, despisde of l^eautie) 
Grew male-content, scorning his louely feature, 
That liad disdaind my euer zealous dutie : 

I liy'd me homeward by the Moone-shine light ; 

Foreswaring Loue, and all his fond delight. 



36 The Affectionate Shepheard. 







Of all the kindes of common Countrey life, 
Methinkes a Shepheards life is most Content ; 
His State is quiet Peace, deuoyd of strife ; 
His thoughts are pure from all impure intent, 
His Pleasures rate sits at an easie rent : 
He beares no mallice in his harmles hart, 
Malicious meaning hath in him no part. 

TTie Affectionate Shepheard. 37 


He is not troubled with th' afflicted minde, 

His cares are onely ouer silly Sheepe ; 

He is not vnto lealozie inclinde, 

(Thrice happy Man) he knowes not how to weepe ; 

Whilst I the Treble in deepe sorrowes keepe : 
I cannot keepe the Meane ; for why (alas) 
Griefes haue no meane, though I for meane doe passe. 


No Briefes nor Semi-Briefes are in my Songs, 

Because (alas) my grief e is seldome short ; 

My Prick-Song's alwayes full of Largues and Longs, 

(Because I neuer can obtaine the Port 

Of my desires : Hope is a happie Eort). 

Prick-song (indeed) because it pricks my hart ; 

And Song, because sometimes I ease my smart. 


The mightie Monarch of a royall Bealme, 
Swaying his Scepter with a Princely pompe, 
Of his desires cannot so steare the Healme, 
But sometime falls into a deadly dumpe. 
When as he heares the shrilly-sounding Trumpc 

Of forren Enemies, or home-bred Foes ; 

His minde of griefe, his hart is full of woes. 

38 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Or when bad subiects gainst their Soueraigne 
(Like hollow harts) vnnaturally rebell. 
How carefull is he to suppresse againe 
Their desperate forces, and their powers to quell 
With loyall harts, till all (againe) be weU : 
When (being subdu'd) his care is rather more 
To keepe them vnder, than it was before. 


Thus is he neuer full of sweete Content, 
But either this or that his ioy debars : 
Now Noble-men gainst Noble-men are bent. 
Now Gentlemen and others fall at iarrs : 
Thus is his Countrey full of ciuill warrs ; 
He still in danger sits, still fearing Death, 
Por Traitors seeke to stop their Princes breath. 


TJie whylst the other hath no enemie. 
Without it be the Wolfe and cruell Eates, 
(Which no man spare) : when as his disagree. 
He with his sheephooke knaps them on the pates, 
Schooling his tender Lambs from Wanton gates. 

Beasts are more kinde than Men, Sheepe seeke not blood 
But countrey caytiues kill their Countreyes good. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 39 


The Courtier he fawn's for his Princes fauour, 

In hope to get a Princely ritch Reward ; 

His tongue is tipt with honey for to glauer, 

Pride deales the Deck, whilst Chance doth choose the Card ; 

Then comes another and his Game hath mard ; 

Sitting betwixt him and the morning Sun ; 

Thus Night is come before the Day is done. 


Some Courtiers, careful! of their Princes health, 

Attend his Person with all dilligence 

Whose hand's their hart ; whose welfare is their wealth, 

Whose safe Protection is their sure Defence, 

Por pure affection, not for hope of pence : 

Such is the faithfull hart, such is the minde. 

Of him that is to Vertue still inclinde. 


The skilfuU SchoUer, and braue man at Armes, 
First plies his Booke, last fights for Countries Peace ; 
Th' one feares Obliuion, th' other fresh Alarmes : 
His paines nere ende, his trauailes neuer cease ; 
His with the Day, his with the Night increase : 
He studies how to get eternall Fame, 
The Souldier fights to win a glorious Name. 

40 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


The Knight, the Squire, the Gentleman, the Clowne, 
Are full of crosses and calamities ; 
Lest fickle Fortune should begin to frowne, 
And turne their mirth to extreame miseries : 
Nothing more certaine than incertainties ; 
Fortune is full of fresh varietie : 
Constant in nothing but inconstancie. 


The wealthie Merchant that doth crosse the Seas, 
To Denmarke, Poland, Spaine, and Barbarie, 
For all his ritches, lines not still at ease ; 
Sometimes he feares ship-spoyling Pyracie, 
Another while deceipt and treacherie 

Of his owne Factors in a forren Land ; 

Thus doth he still in dread and danger stand. 


Well is he tearmd a merchant- Venturer, 
Since he doth venter lands, and goods and all : 
When he doth trauell for his Traffique far, 
Little he knowes what fortune may befall. 
Or rather, what mis -fortune happen shall : 

Sometimes he splits his Ship against a rocke ; 

Loosing his men, his goods, his wealth, his stocke. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 41 


And if he so escape with life away, 
He counts himselfe a man most fortunate, 
Because the waues their rigorous rage did stay, 
(When being within their cruell powers of late, 
The Seas did seeme to pittie his estate). 
But yet he neuer can recover health, 
Because his ioy was drowned with his wealth. 


The painfull Plough- swaine, and the Husband-man, 
Rise up each morning by the breake of day, 
Taking what toyle and drudging paines they can, 
And all is for to get a little stay ; 
And yet they cannot put their care away : 
When Night is come, their cares begin afresh. 
Thinking vpon their Morrowes busines. 


Thus euerie man is troubled with vnrest, 
From rich to poore, from high to low degree : 
Therefore I thinke that man is truly blest. 
That neither cares for wealth nor pouertie. 
But laughs at Fortune, and her foolcrie ; 
That gives rich Churles great store of golde and fee, 
And lets poore Schollers live in miserie. 


42 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


O, fading Branches of decaying Bayes, 

Who now will water your dry-wither'd Arrnes ? 

Or where is he that sung the louely Layes 

Of simple Shepheards in their Countrey-Parmes ? 

Ah he is dead, the cause of all our harmes : 

And with him dide my ioy and sweete delight ; 

The cleare to Clowdes, the D^y is turnd to Night. 


Sydney, The Syren of this latter Age ; 
Sydney, The Biasing starre of England's glory ; 
Sydney, The Wonder of the wise and sage ; 
Sydney, The Subiect of true Vertues story ; 

This Syren, Starre, this Wonder, and this Subiect ; 

Is dumbe, dim, gone, and mard by Fortune's Obiect. 


And thou, my sweete Amintas, vertuous minde, 
Should I forget thy Learning or thy Loue, 
Well might I be accounted but vnkinde, 
Whose pure affection I so oft did proue ; 
Might my poore Plaints hard stones to pitty moue, 
His losse should be lamented of each Creature, 
So great his Name, so gentle was his Nature. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 43 


But sleepe his soule in sweet Elysium, 
(The happy Hauen of eternall rest :) 
And let me to my former matter come, 
Prouing, by Reason, Shepheard's life is best, 
Because he harbours Vertue in his Brest ; 
And is content, (the chief est thing of all), 
With any fortune that shall him befall. 


He sits all Day lowd- piping on a Hill, 
The whilst his floeke about him daunce apace, 
His hart with ioy, his eares with Musique fill 
Anon a bleating Weather beares the Bace, 
A lambe the Treble, and to his disgrace 
Another answers like a middle Meane, 
Thus euery one to beare a Part are faine. 


Like a great King he rules a little Land, 

Still making Statutes and ordayning Lawes ; 

Which if they breake, he beates them with his Wand : 

He doth defend them from the greedy lawes 

Of rau'ning Woolues, and Lyons bloudy Pawes. 

His Field, his Rcalme ; his Subiects are his Sheepe ; 

Which he doth still in due obedience keepe. 


44 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


First he ordaines by Act of Parlament, 
(Holden by custome in each Country Towne), 
That if a sheepe (with any bad intent) 
Presume to breake the neighbour Hedges downe, 
Or haunt strange Pastures that be not his owne ; 
He shall be pounded for his lustines, 
Vntill his Master finde out some redres. 


Also if any proue a Strageller 
Prom his owne fellowes in a forraine field, 
He shall be taken for a wanderer, 
And forc'd himselfe immediatly to yeeld. 
Or with a wyde-mouth'd Mastiue Curre be kild ; 
And if not claimd within a twelue-month's space. 
He shall remaine with Land-lord of the place. 


Or if one stray to feede far from the rest, 
He shall be pincht by his swift pye-bald Curre ; 
If any by his fellowes be opprest, 
The wronger, (for he doth all wrong abhorre), 
Shall be well bangd so long as he can sturre. 
Because he did anoy his harmeles Brother, 
That meant not harme to him nor any other. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 45 


And last of all, if any wanton Weather, 
With briers and brambles teare his fleece in twaine, 
He shall be forc'd t' abide cold frosty weather, 
And powring showres of ratling stormes of raine, 
Till his new fleece begins to grow againe : 
And for his rashnes he is doom'd to goe 
Without a new Coate all the Winter throw. 


Thus doth he keepe them still in awfull feare, 
And yet allowes them liberty inough ; 
So deare to him their welfare doth appeare, 
That when their fleeces gin to waxen rough. 
He combs and trims them with a Rampicke bough, 
Washing them in the streames of siluer Ladon^ 
To cleanse their skinnes from all corruption. 


Another while he wooes his Countiy Wench, 
(With Chaplet crownd and gaudy girlonds dight) 
Whose burning Lust her modest eye doth quench, 
Standing amazed at her lieauenly sight, 
(Beauty doth rauish Sense with sweet Delight) 
Clearing Arcadia with a smoothed Browe, 
When Sun-bright smiles melt flakes of driuen snowe. 

46 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


Thus doth he frollicke it each day by day, 
And when Night comes drawes homeward to his Coate, 
Singing a jigge or merry Roundelay, 
(Eor who sings commonly so merry a Noate, 
As he that cannot chop or change a groate.) 
And in the winter Nights (his chiefe desire) 
He turns a Crabbe or Cracknell in the fire. 


He leads his "Wench a Country Horn-pipe Round, 
About a May-pole on a Holy-day ; 
Kissing his louely Lasse (with Garlands Crownd) 
With whoopping heigh-ho singing Care away ; 
Thus doth he passe the merry month of May, 

And all th' yere after, in delight and ioy ; 

(Scorning a King) he cares for no annoy. 


What though with simple cheere he homely fares', 
He lines content, a King can doo no more ; 
Nay, not so much, for Kings haue manie cares : 
But he hath none, except it be that sore 
Which yong and old, which vexeth ritch and poore, 

The pangs of loue. O ! who can vanquish Loue ? 

That conquers Kingdomes, and the Gods aboue. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 47 


Deepe-wounding Arrow, hart-consuming Fire ; 

Ruler of Reason, slaue to tyrant Beautie ; 

Monarch of harts, Puell of fond desire, 

Prentice to Folly, foe to fained Duetie, 

Pledge of true Zeale, Affections moitie ; 

If thou kilst where thou wilt, and whom it list thee, 
(Alas) how can a silly Soule resist thee ? 


By thee great Collin lost his libertie, 

By thee sweet Astrophel forwent his ioy ; 

By thee Amyntas wept incessantly. 

By thee good Rowland liu'd in great annoy ; 

O cruell, peevish, vylde, blind-seeing Boy, 

How canst thou hit their harts, and yet not see ? 

(If thou be blinde, as thou art faind to bee.) 


A Shepheard loues no ill, but onely thee ; 
He hath no care, but onely by thy causing : 
Why doost thou shoot thy cruell shafts at mee ? 
Giue me some respite, some short time of pausing : 
StiU my sweet Loue with bitter lucke th'art sawcing 

Oh, if thou hast a minde to shew thy might ; 

Kill mightie Kings, and not a wretched wight. 

48 77^6 Affectionate Shepheard. 


Yet (O Enthraller of infranchizd harts) 
At my poore hart if thou wilt needs be ayming, 
Doo me this fauour, show me both thy Darts, 
That I may chuse the best for my harts mayming, 
(A free consent is priuiledgd from blaming : ) 
Then pierce his hard hart with thy golden Arrow, 
That thou my wrong, that he may rue my sorrow. 


But let mee feele the force of thy lead Pyle, 
What should I doo with loue when I am old ? 
I know not how to flatter, fawne, or smyle ; 
Then stay thy hand, O cruell Bow-man hold : 
For if thou strik'st me with thy dart of gold, 
I sweare to thee (by loues immortall curse) 
I haue more in my hart than in my purse. 


The more I weepe, the more he bends his Bow, 
For in my hart a golden Shaft I finde : 
(Cruell, vnkinde) and wilt thou leaue me so ? 
Can no remorce nor pittie moue thy minde ? 
Is Mercie in the Heauens so hard to finde ? 
Oh, then it is no meruaile that on earth 
Of kinde Bemorce there is so great a dearth. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 49 


How happie were a harmles Shepheards life, 
If he had neuer knowen what Loue did meane ; 
But now fond Loue in euery place is rife. 
Staining the purest Soule with spots vncleane, 
Making thicke purses, thin : fat bodies, leane : 
Loue is a fiend, a fire, a heauen, a hell. 
Where pleasure, paine, and sad repentance dwell ! 


There are so manie Dcmaes now a dayes, 
That loue for lucre ; paine for gaine is sold : 
No true affection can their fancie please. 
Except it be a love, to raine downe gold 
Into their laps, which they wyde open hold : 
If legem pone comes, he is receau'd. 
When Vix haud habeo is of hope bereau'd. 


Thus have I showed in my Countrey vaine 
The sweet Content that Shepheards still inioy ; 
The mickle pleasure, and the little paine 
That euer doth awayte the Shepheards Boy : 
His hart is neuer troubled with annoy : 

He is a King, for he commands his Sheepe ; 

He knowes no woe, for he doth seldome weepe. 


50 The Affectionate Shepheard. 


He is a Courtier, for he courts his Loue ; 

He is a Scholler, for he sings sweet Ditties : 

He is a Souldier, for he wounds doth proue ; 

He is the fame of Townes, the shame of Citties ; 

He scornes false Eortune, but true Vertue pitties. 
He is a Gentleman, because his nature 
Is kinde and affable to euerie Creature. 


Who would not then a simple Shepheard bee, 
Rather than be a mightie Monarch made ? 
Since he inioyes such perfect libertie 
As neuer can decay, nor neuer fade : 
He seldome sits in dolefull Cypresse shade. 
But Hues in hope, in ioy, in peace, in blisse 
loying all ioy with this content of his. 


But now good-fortune lands my little Boate 

Vpon the shoare of his desired rest ; 

Now I must leaue (awhile) my rurall noate, 

To thinke on him whom my soule loueth best ; 

He that can make the most vnhappie blest : 

In whose sweete lap He lay me downe to sleepe. 
And neuer wake till Marble-stones shall weepe. 


The Affectionate Shepheard. 51 


LoE here behold these tributarie Teares 
Paid to thy faire, but cruell tyrant Eyes ; 

Loe here the blossome of my youthful! yeares, 
Nipt with the fresh of thy Wraths winter, dyes, 

Here on Loues Altar I doo offer vp 

This burning hart for my Soules sacrifice ; 

Here I receaue this deadly-poysned cu[p] 

Of Circe charm'd ; wherein deepe magicke lyes. 

Then Teares (if you be happie Teares indeed), 
And Hart (if thou be lodged in his brest), 

And Cup (if thou canst helpe despaire with speed) ; 
Teares, Hart, and Cup, conjoyne to make me blest: 
Teares moue. Hart win, Cup cause, ruth, loue, desire, 
In word, in deed, by moane, by zeale, by fire. 



52 TJie Affectionate Shepheard. 






YoTJ modest Dames, inricht with Chastitie, 
Maske your bright eyes with Vestaes sable vaile, 
Since few are left so faire or chast as shee ; 
(Matter for me to weepe, you to bewaile) : 
For manie seeming so, of Vertue faile ; 
Whose louely Cheeks (with rare vermilion tainted) 
Can neuer blush because their faire is painted. 

The Affectionate Shepheard. 53 


O faire-foule Tincture, staine of Woman-kinde, 
Mother of Mischiefe, Daughter of Deceate, 
False traitor to the Soule, blot to the Minde, 
Vsurping Tyrant ot true Beauties seate, 
Right Cousner of the eye, lewd Follies baite, 
The flag of filthines, the sinke of shame, 
The Diuells dye, dishonour of thy name. 


Monster of Art, Bastard of bad Desier, 
Il-worshipt Idoll, false Imagerie, 
Ensigne of Vice, to thine owne solfe a lier. 
Silent Inchaunter, mindes Anatomic, 
Sly Bawd to Lust, Pandor to Infamie, 

Slaunder of Truth, Truth of Dissimulation ; 

Staining our Clymate more than anie Nation. 


What shall I say to thee ? thou scome of Nature. 
Blacke spot of sinne, vylde lure of lecherie ; 
Iniurious Blame to euerie faemale creature, 
Wronger of time, Broker of trecherie, 
Trap of greene youth, false Womens witcherie, 

Hand-maid of pride, high-way to wickednesse ; 

Yet path -way to Bepcntance, ncre the lesse. 




A Light Lanthorne for Light Ladies. 

Written iyi English Hexameters. 

Louely a Lasse, so loued a Lasse, and (alas) such a louing 

Lasse, for a while (but a while) was none such a sweet bonny Lasse 

As Helen, Mgenelaus louing, lou'd, louelie a loue-lasse, 

Till spightfull Fortune from a loue-lasse made her a loue-lesse 

Wife. From a wise woman to a witles wanton abandond, 

When her mate (vnawares) made warres in Peloponessus, 

Adultrous Paris (then a Boy) kept sheepe as a shepheard 

On Ida Mountaine, vnknowne to the King for a Keeper 

Of sheep, on Ida Mountaine, as a Boy, as a shepheard : 

Yet such sheep he kept, and was so seemelic a shepheard, 

Seemlie a Boy, so seemlie a youth, so scemlie a Younker, 

That on Ida was not such a Boy, such a youth, such a Younker. 

Sonne now reconcil'd to the Father, fained a letter 

Sent him by lupiter (the greatest God in Olympus) 

For to repaire with specde to the brauest Graecian Ilaucn, 

And to redeeme againe Hesyone latelic rcuoltcd 

From Troy by Ayax, whom she had newly betrothed. 

Well, so well be told his tale to his Aunt Amaryllis 

56* Hellens Rape. 

That Amaryllis, (his Aunt,) obtained aid of his aged 
Syre, that he sent him a ship, and made him Capten of Argus. 
Great store went to Greece with lust-bewitched Alexis, 
Telamour, and Tydias : with these he sliceth the salt seas, 
The salt seas slicing, at length he comes to the firme land, 
Firme land, an auntient Hand cald old Lacedsemon. 
Argus (eyef all Earle) when first the ken of a Castle 
He had spide bespake : (to the Mate, to the men, the Mates-men) 
Lo behold of Greece (quoth he) the great Cytadella, 
(Ycleaped Menela) so tearmd of Deliaes Husband : 
Happie Helen, Womens most woonder, beautifull Helen. 
Oh would God (quoth he) with a flattring Tongue he repeated : 
Oh would God (quoth he) that I might deserue to be husband 
To such a happie huswife, to such a beautifull Helen. 
This he spake to intice the minde of a lecherous young man : 
But what spurres need now, for an vntam'd Titt to be trotting : 
Or to add old Oile to the flame, new flaxe to the fier : 
Paris heard him hard, and gaue good eare to his barkening : 
And then his loue to a lust, his lust was turnd to a fier, 
Pire was turnd to a flame, and flame was turnd to a burning 
Brand : and mothers Dreame was then most truelie resolued. 
Well so far th' are come, that now th' are come to the Castle, 
Castle all of stone, yet euery stone was a Castle : 
Euerie foote had a Port, and euerie Port had a fountaine, 
Euerie fountaine a spring, and euerie spring had a spurting 
Streame : so strong without, within, so stately a building, 
Neuer afore was scene : If neuer afore Polyphoebe 
Was scene, was to be scene, if nere to be scene was Olympus. 
Plowers were framd of flints. Walls, Rubies, Rafters of Argent : 
Pauements of Chrisolite, Windows contriu'd of a Christall : 
Vessels were of gold, with gold was each thing adorned : 
Golden Webs more worth than a wealthy Souldan of Egypt, 
And her selfe more worth than a wealthy Souldan of Egypt : 

Hellens Bape. 57* 

And her selfe more worth than all the wealth shee possessed ; 

Selfe ? indeede such a selfe, as Thundring loue in Olympus, 

Though he were father could finde in his hart to be husband. 

Embassage ended, to the Queene of faire Lacedaemon ; 

(Happie King of a Queene so faire, of a Country so famous) 

Embassage ended, a Banquet braue was appointed : 

Sweet Repast for a Prince, fine lunkets fit for a Kings sonne. 

Biskets and Carrawayes, Comfets, Tart, Plate, lelly, Ginge-bread, 

Lymons and Medlars : and Dishes moe by a thousand. 

Eirst they fell to the feast, and after fall to a Dauncing, 

And from a Dance to a Trance, from a Trance they fell to a falling 

Either in others armes, and either in armes of another. 

Pastime ouer-past, and Banquet duely prepared, 

Deuoutly pared : Each one hies home to his owne home, 

Saue Lord and Ladie ; Young Lad, but yet such an old Lad, 

In such a Ladies lappe, at such a slipperie by-blow. 

That in a world so wide, could not be found such a wilie 

Lad : in an Age so old, could not be found such an old lad : 

Old lad, and bold lad, such a Boy, such a lustie luuentus. 

Well to their worke they goe, and both they iumble in one Bed : 

Worke so well they like, that they still like to be working : 

For Aurora mounts before he leaues to be mounting : 

And Astrea fades before she faints to be falling : 

(Helen a light Huswife, now a lightsome starre in Olympus.) 


^^^^xzint Sonnecs, andi^^^l 
\^* the Legend of 

^ Printed ^orHuinfrey^j?;;rp 

^^LoTvnef ^ .tnd are to hce ^^)cx 
rfv,/.^ foiJ atthe VVcftdoore '^ 

ZiT'C **^ Piulcs. I «r y f. 



Note. — As in " The Affectionate Shepheard," the original title-page of " Cynthia," 
&c., is reproduced in fac-simile opposite. The Beldornie reprint is so much waste 
paper from its multiplied blunders. The copy from which our text is taken is in the 
Bodleian. — G. 






Quod cupio nequeo. 

At London, 

Printed for Humfrey 

Lownes, and are to bee 

sold' at the West doore 

of Pavles. 1595. 



To the E/ight Honorable, and most noble-minded Lorde, William 
Stanley, Earle of Darby, &c. 

Right Honorable, the dutifuU affection I beare to your manie 
vertues, is cause, that to manifest my loue to your Lordship, I am 
constrained to shew my simplenes to the world. Many are they 
that admire your worth, of the which number, I (though the 
meanest in abilitie, yet with the formost in affection) am one 
that most desire to serue, and onely to serue your Honour. 

Small is the gift, but great is my good- will ; the which, by how 
much the lesse I am able to expresse it, by so much the more 
it is infinite. Liue long : and inherit your Predecessors vertues, 
as you doe their dignitie and estate. This is my wish : the which 
your honorable excellent giftes doe promise me to obtaine : and 
whereof these few rude and vnpoUished lines, are a true (though 
an vndeseruing) testimony. If my ability were better, the signes 
should be greater ; but being as it is, your honour must take me 
as I am, not as I should be. My yeares being so young, my 
perfection cannot be great : But howsoeuer it is, yours it is ; and 
I myselfe am yours ; in all humble seruice, most ready to be 

Richard Bamefeilde. 


To the curteous Gentlemen Readers. 

Gentlemen ; the last Terme there came forth a little toy of 
mine, intituled. The affectionate Shepheard : In the which, his 
Country Content found such friendly favor, that it hath incouraged 
me to publish my second fruites. The affectionate Shepheard being 
the first : howsoeuer undeseruedly (I protest) I haue beene thought 
(of some) to haue been the authour of two Books heretofore. I 
neede not to name them, because they are too- well knowne already; 
nor will I deny them, because they are dislik't ; but because they 
are not mine. This protestation (I hope) will satisfie th' indifferent : 
and as for them that are maliciously enuious, as I cannot, so I care 
not to please. Some there were, that did interpret The affectionate 
Shepheard, otherwise then (in truth) I meant, touching the subiect 
thereof, to wit, the loue of a Shepheard to a boy ; a fault, the 
which I will not excuse, because I neuer made. Onely this, I will 
vnshaddow my conceit : being nothing else, but an imitation of 
Virgin, in the second Eglogue of Alexis. In one or two places 
(in this Booke) I vse the name of JEliza pastorally : wherein lest 
any one should misconster my meaning (as I hope none will) I 
haue here briefly discouered my harmeles conceipt as concerning 
that name : whereof once (in a simple Shepheards deuice) I wrot 
this Epigramme — 


One name there is, which name aboue all other 
I most esteeme, as time and place shall proue : 
The one is Vesta, th' other Cupids mother. 
The first my Goddesse is, the last my loue ; 

Subiect to Both I am : to that by birth ; 

To this for beautie ; fairest on the earth. 

Thus, hoping you will beare with my rude conceit of Cynthia, 
(if for no other cause, yet, for that it is the first imitation of the 
verse of that excellent Poet Maister Spencer, in his Fayrie Queene), 
I leaue you to the reading of that, which I so much desire may 
breed your Delight. 

Richard Barnefeild. 


T. T. in commendation of the Authour, his Worke. 

Whylom that in a shepheards gray coate masked 

(Where masked loue the nonage of his skill), 

Reares new Eagle-winged pen, new tasked, 

To scale the by-clift Muse sole-pleasing hill : 

Dropping sweete Nectar poesie from his quill, 
Admires faire CYNTHIA with his iuory pen, 
Faire CYNTHIA lou'd, fear'd, of Gods and men. 

Downe sliding from that cloudes ore-pearing moimteine : 
Decking with double grace the neighbour plaines, 
Drawes chrystall dew, from PEGASE foote-sprung fountain, 
"Whose flower-set banks delights, sweet choice containes : 
Nere yet discouerd to the country swaines : 

Heere bud those branches, which adome his turtle, 
With loue made garlands, of heart-bleeding Mirtle. 

Hays'd from the cynders of the thrice-sact towne : 
ILLIONS sooth-telling SYBILLIST appeares. 
Eclipsing Phaebvs' loue, with scornefuU frowne, 
Whose tragicke end, affords warme-water teares, 
Eor pitty wanting PACOE, none forbeares, 
Such period haps, to beauties price ore-priz'd : 
Where lANVS-faced loue, doth lurke disguiz'd. 

Nere waining CYNTHIA yeelds thee triple thankes, 
Whose beames vnborrowed darke the worlds faire eie. 
And as full streames that euer fill their bankes, 
So those rare Sonnets, where wits tipe doth lie. 
With Troian Nimph, doe scare thy fame to skie. 
And those, and these, contend thy Muse to raise 
(Larke mounting Muse) with more then common praise. 




Bright Starre of Beauty, fairest Paire aliue, 
Rare president of peerelesse chastity ; 
(In whom the Muses and the Graces striue, 
Which shall possesse the chiefest part of thee :) 
Oh let these simple lines accepted bee : 
Which here I offer at thy sacred shrine : 
Sacred, because sweet Beauty is diuine. 

And though I cannot please each curious care, 
With sugred Noates of heauenly Harmonic : 
Yet if my loue shall to thy selfe appeare, 
No other Muse I will inuoke but thee : 
And if thou wilt my faire Thalia be, 

He sing sweet Hymnes and praises to thy name. 
In that cleare Temple of eternal Pame. 

But oh (alas) how can mine infant Muse 
(That neuer heard of Selicon before) 
Perf orme my promise past ; when they refuse 
Poore Shepheards Plaints ; yet wiU I still adore 
Thy sacred Name, although I write no more : 

Yet hope I shall, if this accepted bee : 

If not, in silence sleepe eternally. 




Now was the Welkyn all inuelloped 

With duskie Mantle of the sable Night : 
And CYNTHIA, lifting up her drouping head, 
Blusht at the Beautie of her borrowed light. 
When Sleepe now summon' d euery mortal wight. 
Then loe (me thought) I saw or seem'd to see, 
An heauenly Creature like an Angell bright, 
That in great haste came pacing towards me : 

Was neuer mortall eye beheld so faire a Shee. 


Thou lazie man (quoth she) what mak'st thou heere 
(Luld in the lap of Honours Enimie ?) 
I heere commaund thee now for to appeare 
(By vertue of Loues mickle Maiestie) 
In yonder Wood. (Which with her finger shee 
Out-poynting) had no sooner tum'd her face, 
And leaning mee to muze what she should bee, 
Yuanished into some other place : 

But straite (me thought) I saw a rout of heauenlie Race. 


68 Cynthia. 


Downe in a Dale, hard by a Porrest side, 
(Vnder tlie shaddow of a loftie Pine) 
Not far from whence a trickling streame did glide. 
Did nature by her secret art combine, 
A pleasant Arbour, of a spreading Vine : 
Wherein Art stroue with nature to compaire, 
That made it rather seeme a thing diuine 
Being scituate all in the open Aire : 

A fairer nere was seene, if any seene so faire. 


There might one see, and yet not see (indeede) 
Presh Flora flourishing in chiefest Prime, 
Arrayed all in gay and gorgeous weede. 
The Primrose, and sweet-smelling Eglantine 
As fitted best beguiling so the time : 
And euer as she went she strewd the place, 
Red-roses mixt with Daffadillies fine, 
Eor Gods and Goddesses, that in like case 

In this same order sat,- with il-beseeming grace. 


Cynthia. 69 


First, in a royall Chaire of massie gold, 

(Bard all about with plates of burning steele) 

Sat lupiter most glorious to behold. 

And in his hand was placed Fortunes wheele ; 

The which he often tum'd, and oft did reele. 

And next to him, in griefe and gealouzie, 

(If sight may censure what the heart doth feele) 

In sad lament was placed Mercurie ; 

That dying seem'd to weep, & weeping seem'd to die. 


On th' other side, aboue the other twaine, 
(Delighting as it seem'd to sit alone) 
Sat Mulciber ; in pride and high disdaine, 
Mounted on high vpon a stately throne, 
And euen with that I heard a deadly grone : 
Muzing at this, & such an vncouth sight, 
(Not knowing what shoulde make that piteous mone) 
I saw three furies, all in Armour dight. 

With euery one a Lampe, and euery one a light. 

70 Cynthia. 


I deemed so ; nor was I much deceau'd, 
Por poured forth in sensuall Delight, 
There might I see of Sences quite bereau'd 
King Friams Sonne, that Alexander hight 
(Wrapt in the Mantle of etemall Night), 
And vnder him, awaiting for his fall. 
Sate Shame, here Death, & there sat fel Despight, 
That with their Horrour did his heart appall : 

Thus was his Blisse to Bale, his Hony turn'd to gall. 


In which delight feeding mine hungry eye, 
Of two great Goddesses a sight I had. 
And after them in wondrous lollity, 
(As one that inly ioy'd, so was she glad), 
The Queene of Loue full royallie yclad ; 
In glistring golde, and peerelesse precious stone 
There might I spie ; and her Companion bad, 
Proud Faris, Nephew to Laomedon 

That afterward did cause the Death of many a one. 


Cynthia. 71 


By this the formost melting all in teares, 
And rayning downe resolued Pearls in showers, 
Gan to approach the place of heauenly Pheares, 
And with her weeping, watring all their Bowers, 
Throwing sweet Odors on those fading flowers, 
At length, she them bespake thus mournfullie. 
High loue (quoth she) and yee Cselestiall powers. 
That here in Judgement sit twixt her and mee. 

Now listen (for a while) and iudge with equitie. 


Sporting our selues to day, as wee were wont 
(I meane, I, Dallas, aad the Queene of Loue), 
Intending with Diana for to hunt. 
On Ida Mountaine top our skill to proue, 
A golden Ball was trindled from aboue. 
And on the Rinde was writ this Poesie 
PVLCHERIMiE, for which a while we stroue. 
Each saying shee was fairest of the three. 

When loe a shepheard Swaine not far away we see. 

72 Cynthia. 


I spi'd him first, and spying thus hespake, 
Shall yonder Swaine vnfolde the mysterie ? 
Agreed (quoth Venus) and by Stygian Lake, 
To whom he giues the ball so shall it bee : 
Nor from his censure will I flie, quoth shee, 
(Poynting to Pallas) though I loose the gole. 
Thus euery one yplac'd in her degree, 
The Shepheard comes, whose partial eies gan role, 

And on our beuties look't, and of our beuties stole. 


I promis'd wealth, Minerua promised wit, 
(Shee promis'd wit to him that was vnwise,) 
But he (fond foole) had soone refused it. 
And minding to bestow that glorious Prize 
On Venus, that with pleasure might suffize 
His greedie minde in loose lasciviousnes : 

. Vpon a sudden, wanting goode aduice, 
Holde here (quoth he) this golden Ball possesse. 

Which JParis giues to thee for meede of worthines. 


Cynthia. 73 


Thus haue I shew'd the summe of all my sute, 
And as a PlaintifFe heere appeale to thee, 
And to the rest. Whose folly I impute 
To filthie lust, and partialitie, 
That made him iudge amisse : and so doe we 
(Quoth Pallas^ Vemis,) nor will I gaine-say. 
Although it's mine by right, yet willinglie, 
I heere disclaime my title and obey : 

When silence being made, loue thus began to sale. 


Thou, Venus, art my darling, thou my deare 
{Minerua), shee, my sister and my wife : 
So tliat of all a due respect I beare, 
Assign'd as one to end this doubtfull strife 
(Touching your forme, your fame, your loue, your life', 
Beauty is vaine much like a gloomy light. 
And wanting wit is counted but a trife. 
Especially when Honour's put to flight : 

Thus of a louely, soone becomes a loathly sight. 


74 Cynthia. 


Wit without wealth is bad, yet counted good, 

Wealth wanting wisdom's worse, yet deem'd as wel, 

Erom whence (for ay) doth flow, as from a flood, 

A pleasant Poyson, and a heauenly Hell, 

Where mortall men do couet still to dwell. 

Yet one there is to Vertue so inclin'd, 

That as for Maiesty she beares the Bell, 

So in the truth who tries her princelie minde. 

Both Wisdom, Beauty, Wealth, & all in her shall find. 


In Westerne world amids the Ocean maine. 
In compleat Vertue shining like the Sunne, 
In great Benowne a maiden Queene doth raigne, 
Whose royall Bace, in Buine first begun. 
Till Heauens bright Lamps dissolue shall nere bee done 
In whose faire eies Loue linckt with vertues been. 
In euerlasting Peace and Vnion. 
Which sweet Consort in her full well beseeme. 

Of Bounty, and of Beauty fairest Payrie Queene. 


Cynthia. lb 


And to conclude, the gifts in her yfound, 
Are all so noble, royall, and so rare, 
That more and more in her they doe abound ; 
In her most peerelesse Prince without compare. 
Endowing still her minde with vertuous care : 
That through the world (so wide) the flying fame 
(And name that Enuies selfe cannot impaire), 
Is blown of this faire Queen, this gorgeous dame, 

Eame borrowing al mes mouths to royalize the same. 


And with this sentence Jupiter did end, 

This is the pricke (quoth he), this is the praies. 
To whom, this as a Present I will send, 
That shameth Cynthia in her siluer Raies, 
If so, you tliree this deed doe not displease. 
Then one, and all, and euery one of them, 
To her that is the honour of her dales, 
A second Iiidith in lervaalem, 

To her we send this Pearle, this lewell, and this lem. 


76 Cynthia. 


Then call'd he vp the winged Mercury, 

(The mighty Messenger of Gods enrold,) 

And bad him hither hastily to hie ; 

Who tended by her Nymphes he should behold, 

(Like Pearles ycouched all in shining gold) 

And euen with that, fro pleasant slumbring sleepe, 

(Desiring much these wonders to vnfold) 

I wakening, when Aurora gan to peepe, 
Depriu'd so soone of my sweet Dreame, gan almost weepe. 

The Conclusion. 

Thus, sacred Virgin, Muse of chastitie, 

This difference is betwixt the Moone and thee : 
She shines by Night ; but thou by Day do'st shine 
Shee Monthly changeth ; thou dost nere decline : 
And as the Sunne, to her, doth lend his light, 
So hee, by thee, is onely made so bright : 
Yet neither Sun, nor Moone, thou canst be named. 

Because thy light hath both their beauties shamed : 
Then, since an heauenly Name doth thee befall. 
Thou VIRGO art : (if any Signe at all). 


Sonnets. 77 


Sporting at fancie, setting light by loue, 
There came a theefe, and stole away my heart 
(And therefore robd me of my chiefest part) : 

Yet cannot Reason him a felon proue. 

For why his beauty (my hearts thief e) affirmeth, 
Piercing no skin (the bodies fensiue wall) 
And hauing leaue, and free consent withall, 

Himselfe not guilty, whom loue guilty tearmeth, 

Conscience the ludge, twelue Reasons are the lurie, 
They finde mine eies the beutie t' haue let in, 
And on this verdict giuen, agreed they bin, 

Wherefore, because his beauty did allure yee, 

Your Doome is this : in teares still to be drowned, 
When his faire forehead with disdaine is frowned. 


78 Sonnets. 


Beauty and Maiesty are falne at ods, 

Th' one claimes his cheeke, the other claimes his chin ; 

Then Vertue comes, and puts her title in. 
(Quoth she) I make him like th' immortall Gods. 
(Quoth Maiestie) I owne his lookes, his Brow, 

His lips (quoth Loue), his eies, his faire is mine. 

And yet (quoth Maiesty) he is not thine, 
I mixe Disdaine with Loue's congealed Snow. 
I, but (quoth Loue) his lockes are mine (by right), 

His stately gate is mine (quoth Maiestie), 

And mine (quoth Vertue) is his Modestie. 
Thus as they striue about the heauenly wight, 

At last the other two to Vertue yeeld 

The lists of Loue, fought in faire Beauties field. 


Sonnet^. 79 


The Stoicks thinke, (and they come neare the truth,] 
That vertue is the chiefest good of all, 
The Academicks on Idea call. 

The Epicures in pleasure spend their youth, 

The Perrepatetickes iudge felicitie. 

To be the chiefest good aboue all other. 

One man, thinks this ; & that conceaues another : 

So that in one thing very few agree. 

Let Stoicks haue their Vertue if they will, 
And all the rest their chiefe-supposed good, 
Let cruel Martialists delight in blood. 

And Mysers ioy their bags with gold to fill : 
My chiefest good, my chiefe felicity, 
Is to be gazing on my loues faire eie. 


80 Sonnets. 


Two stars there are in one faire firmament 
(Of some intitled Ganymedes sweet face), 
Which other stars in brightnes doe disgrace. 

As much as JPo in clearenes passeth Trent. 

Nor are they common natur'd stars ; for why, 
These stars whe other shine vaile their pure light, 
And when all other vanish out of sight. 

They adde a glory to the worlds great eie : 

By these two stars my life is only led. 

In them I place my ioy, in them my pleasure, 
Loue's piercing Darts, & Natures precious treasure 

With their sweet f oode my fainting soule is fed : 
Then when my sunne is absent from my sight 
How can it chuse (with me) but be darke night ? 


Sonnets > 81 

It is reported of faire Thetis* Sonne 
(Achilles famous for his chiualry, 
His noble minde and magnanimitie), 

That when the Troian wars were new begun, 

Whos'euer was deepe-wounded with his speare, 
Could neuer be recured of his maime, 
Nor euer after be made whole againe : 

Except with that speares rust he holpen were. 

Euen so it fareth with my fortune now, 
Who being wounded with his piercing eie, 
Must either thereby finde a remedy. 

Or els to be releeu'd I know not how. 

Then if thou hast a minde still to annoy me, 
Kill me with kisses, if thou wilt destroy me. 



82 Sonnets. 


Sweete Corrall lips, where Natures treasure lies, 
The balme of blisse, the soueraigne salue of sorrow, 
The secret touch of loues heart-burning arrow. 

Come quench my thirst or els poor Daphnis dies. 

One night I dream' d (alas twas but a Dreame) 
That I did feele the sweetnes of the same, 
Where-with inspir'd, I young againe became. 

And from my heart a spring of blood did streame, 

But when I wak't, I found it nothing so, 

Saue that my limbs (me thought) did waxe more strong. 
And I more lusty far, & far more yong. 

This gift on him rich Nature did bestow. 
Then if in dreaming so, I so did speede, 
What should I doe, if I did so indeede ? 


Sonnets. 83 


Sweet Thames I honour thee, not for thou art 
The chiefest Riuer of the fairest He, 
Nor for thou dost admirers eies beguile, 
But for thou hold'st the keeper of my heart, 
Por on thy wanes (thy Christal-billow'd wanes), 
My fairest faire, my siluer Swan is swimming : 
Against the sunne his pruned feathers trimming 
Whilst Neptune his faire feete with water lanes, 
Neptune, I feare not thee, nor yet thine eie, 
And yet (alas) Apollo lou'd a boy. 
And Cyparissus was Siluamis ioy. 
No, no, I feare none but faire Thetis, I, 
For if she spie my Lone (alas), aie me, 
My mirth is turn'd to extreame miserie. 

M 2 

84 Sonnets. 


Sometimes I wish that I his pillow were, 
So might I steale a kisse, and yet not seene, 
So might I gaze upon his sleeping eine, 

Although I did it with a panting feare : 

But when I well consider how vain my wish is. 
Ah foolish Bees (thinke I) that doe not sucke 
His lips for hony ; but poore flowers doe plucke 

Which haue no sweet in them : when his sole kisses, 

Are able to reuiue a dying soule. 

Kisse him, but sting him not, for if you doe. 
His angry voice your flying will pursue : 

But when they heare his tongue, what can controule 
Their back-returne ? for then they plaine may see 
How hony-combs from his lips dropping bee. 


Sonnets. 35 


Diana (on a time) walking the wood, 

To sport herselfe, of lier faire traine forlome, 
Chaunc't for to pricke her foote against a thome. 

And from thence issu'd out a streame of blood. 

No sooner shee was vanisht out of sight, 

But loues faire Queen came there away by chace. 
And hauing of this hap a glym'ring glance. 

She put the blood into a christall bright ; 

When being now comme unto mount Rhodopd 
With her faire hands she formes a shape of Snow, 
And blends it with this blood ; from whence doth grow 

A lonely creature, brighter than the Day. 
And being christned in faire Faphos shrine. 
She call'd him Ganymede : as aU diuine. 


86 Sonnets. 


Thus was my loue, tlius was my Ganymed, 

(Heauens ioy, worlds wonder, natures fairest work, 
In whose aspect Hope and Dispaire doe lurke,) 
Made of pure blood in whitest snow yshed, 
And for sweet Venus only form'd his face, 
And his each member delicately framed. 
And last of all faire Ganymede him named. 
His limbs (as their Creatrix) her imbrace. 
But as for his pure, spotles, vertuous minde. 
Because it sprung of chaste Dianaes blood 
(Goddesse of Maides, directresse of all good), 
It wholy is to chastity inclinde. 

And thus it is : as far as I can proue. 
He loues to be beloued, but not to loue. 

Sighi: g 

Sonnets. 87 


Sighing, and sadly sitting by my loue, 
He askt the cause of my hearts sorrowing, 
Coniuring me by heauens etemall King, 

To tell the cause which me so much did moue. 

Compell'd : (quoth I) to thee will I confesse, 
Loue is the cause ; and only loue it is 
That doth depriue me of my heauenly blisse, 

Loue is the paine that doth my heart oppresse. 

And what is she (quoth he) who thou dos't loue ? 
Looke in this glasse (quoth I) there shalt thou see 
The perfect forme of my felicitie. 

When, thinking that it would strage Magique proue, 
He open'd it : and taking off the couer 
He straight perceau'd himselfe to be my Louer. 


88 Sonnets. 


Some talke of Ganymede th' Idalian Boy 
And some of faire Adonis make their boast, 
Some talke of hun whom lovely Lceda lost, 

And some of Ecchoes loue that was so coy. 

They spoke by heere-say, I of perfect truth, 
They partially commend the persons named, 
And for them, sweet Encomions haue framed : 

I onely t' him haue sacrifiz'd my youth. 

As for those wonders of antiquitie. 

And those whom later ages haue inioy'd 
(But ah what hath not cruell death destroide ? 

Death, that enuies this worlds felicitie). 

They were (perhaps) lesse faire then Poets write, 
But he is fairer then I can endite. 


Sonnets. 89 


Speake Eccho, tell ; how may I call my loue ? Love. 
But how his Lamps that are so christaline ? Eyne. 
Oh happy starrs that make your heauens divine : 

And happy lems that admiration moue. 

How tearm'st his golde tresses wau'd with aire ? Haire. 
Oh louely haire of your more-louely Maister, 
Image of loue, faire shape of Alablaster, 

Why do'st thou driue thy Louer to dispaire ? 

How dost thou cal the bed wher beuty grows ? Rose. 
Paire virgine-Rose, whose mayden blossoms couer 
The milke-white Lilly, thy imbracing Louer : 

Whose kisses make the oft thy red to lose. 

And blushing oft for shame, whe he hath kist thee, 
He vades away, and thou raing'st where it list thee. 



90 Sonnets. 


Heere, hold this gloue (this milk-white cheueril gloue) 
Not quaintly ouer-wrought with curious knots, 
Nor deckt with golden spangs, nor siluer spots ; 

Yet wholsome for thy hand as thou shalt proue. 

Ah no ; (sweet boy) place this gloue neere thy heart, 
Weare it, and lodge it still within thy brest, 
So shalt thou make me (most vnhappy) blest. 

So shalt thou rid my paine, and ease my smart : 

How can that be (perhaps) thou wilt reply, 
A gloue is for the hand not for the heart. 
Nor can it well be prou'd by common art. 

Nor reasons rule. To this, thus answere I : 
If thou from gloue do'st take away the g, 
Then gloue is loue : and so I send it thee. 

Sonnets. 9X 


A[h] fairest Gcmymede, disdaine me not, 

Though silly Sheepeheard I, presume to loue thee, 
Though my harsh songs and Sonnets cannot moue thee. 

Yet to thy beauty is my loue no blot. 

Apollo, Joue, and many Gods beside, 

S' daind not the name of cutry shepheards swains. 
Nor want we pleasure, though we take some pains. 

We Hue contentedly : a thing call'd pride, 

Which so corrupts the Court and euery place 

(Each place I meane where learning is neglected. 
And yet of late, euen learning's self e's infected) , 

I know not what it meanes, in any case : 
Wee onely (when Molorchus gins to peepe.) 
Learne for to folde, and to vnfolde our sheepe. 

N 2 

92 Sonnets. 


Long haue I long'd to see my Loue againe, 
Still haue I wisht, but neuer could obtaine it ; 
Rather than all the world (if I might gaine it) 

Would I desire my loues sweet precious gaine. 

Yet in my soule I see him euerie day, 

See him, and see his still sterne countenaunce. 
But (ah) what is of long continuance, 

Where Maiestie & Beautie beares the sway ? 

Sometimes, when I imagine that I see him, 
(As loue is full of foolish fantasies) 
Weening to kisse his lips, as my loues fee's, 

I feele but Aire : nothing but Aire to bee him. 
Thus with Ixion, kisse I clouds in vaine : 
Thus with Ixion, feele I endles paine. 


Sonnets. 93 


Cherry-lipt Adonis in his snowie shape, 

Might not compare with his pure luorie white, 
On whose faire front a Poets pen may write. 

Whose rosiate red excels the crimson grape, 

His loue-enticing delicate soft limbs, 

Are rarely fram'd t' intrap poore gazing eies : 
His cheekes, the Lillie and Carnation dies. 

With lonely tincture which Apolloea dims. 

His lips ripe strawberries in Nectar wet, 

His mouth a Hiue, his tongue a hony-combe. 
Where Muses (like Bees) make their mansion. 

His teeth pure Pearle in blushing Correll set. 
Oh how can such a body sinne-procuring. 
Be slow to loue, and quicke to hate, enduring ? 


94' Sonnets. 


Not Megabcetes, nor Cleonymus, 

(Of whom great Plutarch makes such mention 
Praysing their faire with rare inuention) 

As Ganymede were halfe so beauteous. 

They onely pleas' d the eies of two great Kings, 
But all the worlde at my loue stands amazed, 
Nor one that on his Angels face hath gazed, 

But (rauisht with delight) him Presents brings. 

Some weaning Lambs, and some a suckling Kyd, 
Some Nuts, and fil-beards, others Peares & Plums, 
Another with a milk-white Heyfar comes ; 

As lately ^Egons man {Dammtas) did ; 

But neither he, nor all the Nymphs beside, 
Can win my Ganymede^ with them t'abide. 


Sonnets. 95 


Ah no ; nor I my selfe : though my pure loue 
(Sweete Ganymede) to thee hath still beene pure, 
And euen till my last gaspe shall aie endure, 

Could euer thy obdurate beuty moue : 

Then cease oh Goddesse sonne (for sure thou art, 
A Goddesse sonne that canst resist desire) 
Cease thy hard heart, and entertaine loues fire 

Within thy sacred breast : by Natures art. 

And as I loue thee more then any Creature 
(Loue thee, because thy beautie is diuine ; 
Loue thee, because my selfe, my soule is thine : 

Wholie denoted to thy louelie feature). 
Even so of all the vowels, I and V 
Are dearest vnto me, as doth ensue. 


96 Sonnets. 


But now my Muse toyld with continuall care. 
Begins to faint, and slacke her former pace. 
Expecting fauour from that heauenly grace, 

That maie (in time) her feehle strength repaire. 

Till when (sweete youth) th' essence of my soule, 
(Thou that dost sit and sing at my hearts griefe. 
Thou that dost send thy shepheard no reliefe :) 

Beholde, these lines ; the sonnes of Teares and Dole. 

Ah had great Colin chiefe of sheepheards all, 
Or gentle Rowland, my professed friend, 
Had they thy heautie, or my pennance pend, 

Greater had beene thy fame, and lesse my fall : 
But since that euerie one cannot be wittie. 
Pardon I craue of them, and of thee, pitty. 


An Ode. 97 


Nights were short, and dales were long ; 
Blossoms on the Hauthoms hung : 
Fhilomele (Night-Musiques King) 
Tolde the comming of the spring. 
Whose sweete siluer-sounding voice 
Made the little birds reioice : 
Skipping light from spray to spray, 
Till Aurora shew'd the day. 
Scarce might one see, when I might see 
(For such chaunces sudden bee) 
By a well of Marble-stone, 
A shepheard lying all alone. 
Weepe he did ; and his weeping 
Made the fading flowers spring. 
Daphnis was his name (I weene) 
Youngest Swaine of Summers Queene. 
"When Aurora saw t'was he, 
Weepe she did for companie : 


98 An Ode. 

Weepe she did for her sweete sonne, 
That (when antique Troy was wonne) 
Suffer' d death by lucklesse fate, 
Whom she now laments too late : 
And each morning (by Cocks crew) 
Showers down her siluer dew. 
Whose teares (falling from their spring) 
Giue moysture to each liuing thing, 
That on earth increase and grow, 
Through power of their friendlie foe. 
Whose effect when Flora felt, 
Teares, that did her bosome melt, 
(Eor who can resist teares often 
But Shee whom no teares can soften ?) 
Peering straite aboue the banks, 
Shew'd herselfe to giue her thanks. 
Wondring thus at Natures worke, 
(Wherein many maruailes lurke.) 

An Ode, 99 

Me thought I heard a doleful! noise, 

Consorted with a mournful voice, 

Drawing me to heare more plaine, 

Heare I did, vnto my paine, 

(For who is not pain'd to heare 

Him in grief e whom heart holdes deare?) 

Silly swaine (with grief ore- gone) 

Thus to make his piteous mone. 

Loue I did, (alas the while) 

Loue I did, but did beguile 

My deare loue with louing so, 

(Whom as then I did not know.) 

Loue I did the fairest boy. 

That these fields did ere enioy. 

Loue I did, fair Ganymed ; 

( Venus darling, beauties bed ; ) 

Him I thought the fairest creature ; 

Him the quintessence of Nature : 



100 An Ode. 

But yet (alas) I was deceiu'd, 
(Loue of reason is bereau'd) 
Por since then I saw a Lasse, 
(Lasse) that did in beauty passe, 
(Passe) faire Ganymede as farre 
As Fh(Bbus doth the smallest starre. 
Loue commaunded me to loue, 
Fancy bade me not remoue 
My affection from the swaine 
Whom I neuer could obtaine : 
(For who can obtaine that fauour, 
Which he cannot graunt the crauer ? ) 
Loue at last (though loath) preuailde ; 
(Loue) that so my heart assailde ; 
Wounding me with her faire eies, 
(Ah how Loue can subtelize. 
And denize a thousand shifts. 
How to worke men to his drifts.) 


An Ode. 101 

Her it is, for whom I mourne ; 
Her, for whom my life I scorne ; 
Her, for whom I weepe all day ; 
Her, for whom I sigh, and say. 
Either She, or els no creature, 
Shall enioy my lone : whose feature 
Though I neuer can obtaine. 
Yet shall my true loue remaine : 
Till (my body turn'd to clay) 
My poore soule must passe away. 
To the heauens ; where (I hope) 
It shall finde a resting scope : 
Then since I loued thee (alone) 
Remember me when I am gone. 
Scarce had he these last words spoken. 
But me thought his heart was broken ; 
With great griefe that did abound, 
(Cares and griefe the heart confound) 


102 An Ode. 

In whose heart (thus riu'd in three) 
ELIZA written I might see : 
In caracters of crimson blood, 
(Whose meaning well I vnderstood) 
Which, for my heart might not behold, 
I hyed me home my sheep to folde. 


Cassandra. 103 


Vpon a gorgious gold embossed bed, 
With Tissue curtaines drawne against the sunne, 
(Which gazers eies into amazement led. 
So curiously the workmanship was done,) 
Lay faire Cassandra in her snowie smocke, 
Whose lips the Rubies and the pearles did locke. 

And from her luory front hung dangling downe, 
A bush of long and louely curled haire : 
Whose head impalled with a precious Crowne 
Of orient Pearle, made her to seeme more faire : 
And yet more faire she hardly could be thought 
Then Loue & Nature in her face had wrought. 

By this, young Phcebus rising from the East 
Had tane a view of this rare Paragon, 
Wherewith he soone his radiant beames addresst, 
And with great ioy her (sleeping) gaz'd vpon : 
Till at the last, through her light casemets cleare, 
He stole a kisse : and softly called her Beare. 

104 Cassandra. 

Yet not so softly but (therwith awak't) 
She gins to open her faire chrystall couers, 
Wherewith the wounded God, for terror quakt, 
(Viewing those darts as kill disdained louers :) 
And blushing red to see herselfe so shamed 
He scorns his Coach & his own beauty blamed. 

Now with a trice he leaues the azure skies, 
(As whilome loue did at Europaes rape) 
And rauisht with her loue-aluring eies. 
He turns himselfe into a humane shape : 
And that his wish the sooner might ensue, 
He sutes himselfe like one of Venm crew. 

Vpon his head he wore a Hunter's hat 
Of crimson veluet spangd with starres of gold, 
Which grac'd his louely face ; and ouer that 
A siluer hatband ritchly to behold : 

On his left shoulder hung a loose Tyara, 
As whilome vs'd faire Fenthesilea, 

Cassandra. 105 

Faire Penthesilea th' Amazonian Queene, 
When she to Troy came with her warlike hand, 
Of brave Viragoes glorious to he seene ; 
Whose manlike force no power might withstand : 
So look't Apollo in his lonely weedes, 
As he vnto the Troian Damzell speedes. 

Not faire Adonis in his chief est pride. 
Did seerae more faire, then young Apollo seemed, 
When he through th' aire inuisibly did glide, 
T' ohtaine his Loue, which he Angelike deemed : 
Whom finding in her chamber all alone, 
He thus begins t' expresse his piteous mone. 

O Fairest faire, aboue all faires (quoth hee) 
If euer Loue obtained Ladies fauour. 
Then shew thyselfe compassionate to me. 
Whose head surpriz'd with thy diuine behauior, 
Yeelds myselfe captiue to thy conqu'ring eies 
O then shew mercy, do not tyrannize. 

106 Cassandra. 

Scarce had Apollo vtter'd these last words 
(Rayning downe pearle from his immortall eies) 
When she for answere, nought hut feare affords 
Filling the place with lamentable cries : 
But Phoebus fearing much those raging fits, 
With sugred kisses sweetely charm'd her lips. 

(And tells her softly in her softer eare) 
That he a God is, and no mortall creature : 
Wherewith abandoning all needelesse feare, 
(A common f railtie of weake womans nature) 
She boldly askes him of his deitie, 
Gracing her question with her wanton eie. 

Which charge to him no sooner was assignde, 
But taking faire Cassandra by the hand, 
(The true bewraier of his secrete minde) 
He first begins to let her vnderstand, 

That he from Demogorgon was descended : 
Father of th' Earth, of Gods & men commended. 

Cassandra. 107 

The tenor of which tale he now recites, 
Closing each period with a rauisht kisse : 
Which kindnes, she vnwillingly requites, 
Conioyning oft her Corrall lips to his : 

Not that she lou'd the loue of any one ; 

But that she meant to cozen him anone. 

Hee briefly t' her relates his pedegree : 
The Sonne of loue, sole guider of the sunne, 
He that slewe Fython so victoriouslie, 
He that the name of wisdomes God hath wonne, 
The God of Musique, and of Poetry : 
Of Phisicke, Learning, and Chirurgery. 

All which he eloquently reckons vp, 
That she might know how great a God he was 
And being charm' d with Cupid^s golden cup 
He partial lie vnto her praise doth passe, 
Calling her tipe of honour, Queen of beauty 
To whom all eies owe tributary duety. 


108 Cassandra. 

I loued one (quoth hee) aie me I lou'd 
As faire a shape as euer nature framed ; 
Had she not been so hard t' haue been remou'd. 
By birth a sea-Nymph ; cruell Daphne named : 
Whom, for shee would not to my will agree. 
The Gods transform' d into a Laurel tree. 

Ah therefore be not, (with that word he kist her) 
Be not (quoth he) so proud as Daphne was : 
Ne care thou for the anger of my sister, 
She cannot, nay she shall not hurt my Biss : 
Por if she doe I vow (by dreadfull night) 
Neuer againe to lend her of my light. 

This said : he sweetly doth imbrace his loue, 
Yoaking his armes about her luory necke : 
And calls her wanton Venus milk-white Doue, 
Whose ruddie lips the damask roses decke. 
And euer as his tongue compiles her praise, 
Loue daintie Dimples in her cheekes doth raise. 

Cassandra. 109 

And meaning now to worke her stratagem 
Vpon the silly God, that thinkes none ill. 
She hugs him in her armes, and kisses him ; 
(Th' easlyer to intice him to her will : 

And being not able to maintaine the feeld, 
Thus she begins (or rather seemes) to yeeld. 

Woon with thy words, and rauisht with thy beauty, 

Loe here Cassandra yeelds her selfe to thee, 

Requiring nothing for thy vowed duety. 

But onely firmnesse, Loue and secrecy : 
Which for that now (euen now) I mean to try thee, 
A boone I craue : which thou canst not deny me. 

Scarce were these honywords breath'd from her lips, 
But he, supposing that she ment good-faith. 
Her filed tongues temptations interceps ; 
And (like a Nouico) thus to her he saith : 
Ask what thou wilt, and I will giue it thee : 
Health, wealth, long life, wit, art, or dignitie. 

110 Cassandra. 

Herewith she blushing red (for shame did adde 
A crimson tincture to her palish hew), 
Seeming in outward semblance passing glad, 
(As one that th' end of her petition knew) 
She makes him sweare by vgly Acheron 
That he his promise should performe anew. 

Which done ; relying on his sacred oath, 

She askes of him the gift of prophecie : 

He (silent) giues consent; though seeming loath 

To graunt so much to fraile mortalitie : 

But since that he his vowes maie not recall, 
He gives to her the s'prite propheticall. 

But she no sooner had obtain'd her wish. 
When straite vnpris'ning her lasciuiuous armes 
Prom his softe bosom (th' aluary of blisse) 
She chastely counter checks loues bote alarmes : 
And feareing lest his presence might offend her, 
She slips aside ; and (absent) doth defend her. 

{Muliere ne credas, ne mortucB quidem.) 

Cassandra. Ill 

Looke how a brightsome Planet in the skie 
(Spangling the Welkin with a golden spot) 
Shootes svddenly from the beholders eie, 
And leaues him looking there where she is not : 
Euen so amazed Fhcebus (to discrie her) 
Lookes all about, but no where can espie her. 

Not th' hungry Lyon, hauing lost his pray, 
With greater furie runneth through the wood, 
(Making no signe of momentarie stale, 
Till he haue satisfied himselfe with blood) 
Then angry Phcehus mounts into the skie : 
Threatning the world with his hot-burning eie. 

Now nimbly to his glist'ning Coach he skips. 
And churlishlie ascends his loftie chaire, 
Yerking his headstrong lades with yron whips, 
Whose fearefull neighing ecchoes through the aire. 
Snorting out fierce Sulphure from theire nosethrils 
Whose deadly damp the worlds poore people kils. 

112 Cassandra. 

Then leaue we (for a while) amids the heauens, 
Wreaking his anger on his sturdie Steedes : 
Whose speedful course the day and night now eeuens, 
(The earth disrobed of her summer weedes) 
And now black-mantled night with her browne vaile, 
Couers each thing that all the world might quaile. 

When loe, Cassandra lying at her rest, 
(Her rest were restlesse thoughts : ) it so befell, 
Her minde with multitude of cares opprest, 
Requir'd some sleepe her passions to expell : 
Which when sad Morpheus well did vnderstand 
He clos'd her eie-lids with his leaden hand. 

Now sleepeth shee : and as shee sleepes, beholde ; 
Shee seemes to see the God whom late shee wronged 
Standing before her ; whose fierce lookes vnfold, 
His hidden wrath (to whom iust ire belonged) 
Seeing, shee sighs, and sighing quak't for feare. 
To see the shaddow of her shame appeare. 

Cassandra. 113 

Betwixt amaze and dread as shee thus stands 
The fearefull vision drew more neere vnto her, 
And pynioning her armes in captiue bands 
So sure, that mortall wight may not vndoe her, 
He with a bloudy knife (oh cruell part) 
With raging fury stab'd her to the heart. 

Heerewith awaking from her slumbring sleepe, 
(For feare and care are enemies to rest :) 
At such time as Aurora gins to peepe 
And shew herself e ; far orient in the East ; 

Shee heard a voice which said : O wicked woman, 
"Why dost thou stil the Gods to vengeance summo. 

Thou shalt (indeede) fore-tell of things to come ; 

And truly too ; (for why my vowes are past) 

But heare the end of loues eternall doome : 

Because thy promise did so little last, 

Although thou tell the truth (this gift I giue thee) 
Yet for thy falsehood, no man shall beleeue thee. 


114 Cassandra. 

And (for thy sake) this pennance I impose 

Vpon the remnant of all woman kinde, 

Por that they be such truth professed foes ; 

A constant woman shall be hard to finde : 

And that all flesh at my dread name may tremble, 
When they weep most, the shall they most dissemble. 

This said Apollo then ; And since that time 
His words haue proned true as Oracles : 
Whose turning thoughts ambitiously doe clime 
To heauens height ; and world with lightnes fils 
Whose sex are svbject to inconstancie, 
As other creatures are to destinie. 

Yet famous Sahrine on thy banks doth rest 
The fairest Maide that euer world admired ; 
Whose constant minde, with heauenly gifts possest 
Makes her rare selfe of all the world desired ; 

In whose chaste thoughts no vanitie doth enter ; 

So pure a minde Endymions Loue hath lent her. 

Cassandra. 115 

Queene of my thoughts, but subject of my verse, 
(Diuine Eliza) pardon my defect : 
Whose artlesse pen so rvdely doth reherse 
Thy beauties worth (for want of due respect) ; 

Oh pardon thou the follies of my youth ; 

Pardon my faith, my loue, my zeale, my truth. 

But to Cassandra now : who hauing heard 
The cruell sentence of the threatning voice ; 
At length (too late) begins to waxe affeard, 
Lamenting much her unrepentant choice : 
And seeing her hard hap without reliefe, 
She sheeds salt teares in token of her griefe. 

Which when Aurora saw, and saw 'twas shee, 
Euen shee herselfe, whose far-renowmed fame, 
Made all the world to wonder at her beauty. 
It mou'd compassion in this ruthfuU Dame : 
And thinking on her sonnes sad destinie. 
With mournfuU teares she bcares her companie. 


X16 Cassandra. 

Great was the mone which faire Cassandra made : 
Greater the kindnesse which Aurora shew'd : 
Whose sorrow with the sunne began to fade : 
And her moist teares on th' earths green grasse bestow'd 
Kissing the flowers with her siluer dew, 
Whose fading beautie, seem'd her case to rew. 

Scarce was the lonely Easterne Queene departed, 
Erom stately Ilion (whose proud-reared wals 
Seem'd to controule the cloudes, till Vulcan darted 
Against their Towers his burning fier-bals) 
When sweet Cassandra (leaning her soft bed) 
In seemely sort her selfe apparelled. 

And hearing that her honourable Sire 
(Old princely Pryamus Troy^s aged King) 
Was gone into loues Temple, to conspire 
Against the Oreekes, (whom he to war did bring) 
Shee., (like a Eurie), in a bedlam rage. 
Runs gadding thither, his fell wrath t' asswage. 

Cassandra. 117 

But not preuailing : truely she fore-tolde 
The fall of Trop (with bold erected face) : 
They count her hare-brain'd, mad, and ouer-bcld, 
To presse in presence in so graue a place : 
But in meane season Paris he is gone, 
To bring destruction on faire llion. 

What, ten-yeeres siedge by force could not subuert, 
That, two false traitors in one night destroi'd : 
Who richly guerdon'd for their bad desert, 
Was of JEmeas but small time inioi'd : 
Who, for concealement of Achilles loue, 
Was banished, from llion to remoue. 

King Pry am dead and all the Troians slaine ; 
(The sonnes, his friends and deere confederates,) 
And lots now cast for captiues that remaine, 
(Whom Death hath spared for more cruell fates) 
Cassandra then to Agamemnon fell. 
With whom a Lemman she disdain'd to dwell. 

118 Cassandra. 

She, weepes ; he, wooes ; he, would, but she would not 
He, tell's his birth ; Shee, pleades virginitie : 
He saith, selfe-pride doth rarest beauty blot : 
(And with that word he kist her louingly :) 
Shee, yeeldingly resists ; he faines to die : 
Shee, fall's for feare ; he, on her feareleslie. 

But this braue generall of all the Greekes 
Was quickly foyled at a womans hands, 
Por whoso rashly such incounters seekes. 
Of hard mis-hap in danger euer stands : 

Onely chaste thoughts, and vertvous abstinence. 
Gainst such sweet poyson is the sur'st defence. 

But who can shun the force of beauties blow ? 

Who is not rauisht with a louely looke ? 

Grac'd with a wanton eie (the hearts dumb show) 

Such fish are taken with a siluer hooke : 

And when true loue cannot these pearls obtaine 
Vnguentum Album is the only meane. 

Cassandra. 119 

Parre be it from my thought (diuinest Maid) 
To haue relation to thy heauenly hew, 
(In whose sweete voice the Muses are imbaid) 
No pen can paint thy commendations due : 
Saue only that pen, which no pen can be, 
An Angels quill, to make a pen for thee. 

But to returne to these vnhappie Louers, 
(Sleeping securely in each others armes) 
Whose sugred ioies nights sable mantle couers. 
Little regarding their ensuing harmes ; 

Which afterward they iointlie both repented : 
" Fate is fore-seene, but neuer is preuented. 

Which saying to be true, this lucklesse Dame 
Approued in the sequele of her story : 
Now waxing pale, now blushing red (for shame), 
She scales her lips with silence (women's glory) 
Till Agamemnon vrging her replies. 
Thus of his death she truely prophecies. 

120 Cassandra. 

The day shall come (quoth she) O dismall dale ? 

When thou by false ^gistus shall he slaine : 

Heere could she tell no more ; but made a stay. 

(From further speech as willing to refraine) : 
Not knowing then, nor little did she thinke, 
That she with him of that same cup must drinke. 

But what ? (fond man) he laughs her skil to scorne. 

And iesteth at her diuination : 

Ah to what vnbeliefe are Princes borne ? 

(The onely ouer-throw of many a Nation) : 
And so it did befall this lucklesse Prince, 
"Whom all the world hath much lamented since. 

Insteede of teares, he smileth at her tale : 
Insteede of griefe, he makes great show of gladnes : 
But after blisse, there euer followes bale ; 
And after mirth, there alwaies commeth sadnes : 
But gladnesse, blisse, and mirth had so possest him, 
That sadnes, bale, & griefe could not molest him. 

Cassandra. 121 

Oh cruell Parcce (quoth Cassandra then) 
Why are you Parcse, yet not mou'd with praier ? 
Oh small security of mortall men, 
That line on earth, and hreath this vitall aire : 
When we laugh most, then are we next to sorrow 
The Birds feede vs to day, we them to morrow. 

But if the first did little moue his minde, 
Her later speeches lesse with him preuailed ; 
Who beinge wholy to selfe-will inclinde, 
Deemes her weake braine with lunacy assailed : 
And still the more shee counsels him to stay. 
The more he striueth to make haste away. 

How on the Seas he scap'd stormes, rocks & sholes, 
(Seas that enuide the conquest he had wone, 
Gaping like hell to swallow Greekish soules,) 
I heere omit ; onely suppose it done : 
His storm-tyrde Barke safely brings him to shore, 
His whole Fleete els, is suncke or lost before. 

122 Cassandra. 

Lift vp thy head, thou ashie-cyndred Troyt 
See the commander of thy traitor foes, 
That made thy last nights woe, his first daies ioie, 
Now gins his night of ioy and daie of woes : 
His fall he thy delight, thine was his pride : 
As he thee then, so now thou him deride. 

He and Cassandra now are set on shore, 
Which he salutes with ioy, she greetes with teares, 
Currors are sent that poast to Court before, 
Whose tidings fill th' adultrous Queene with feares, 
Who with ^gistus in a lust staind bed, 
Herselfe, her King, her State dishonored. 

She wakes the lecher with a loud-strain'd shrike, 
Loue-toies they leaue, now doth lament begin : 
He flie (quoth he) but she doth that mislike, . 
Gvilt vnto gvilt, and sinne she ads to sinne ; 
She meanes to kill (immodest loue to couer) 
A kingly husband, for a caytiue louer. 

Cassandra. 123 

The peoples ioies conceiued at his returne, 
Their thronging multitudes : their gladsome cries, 
Their gleefull hymnes, whiles piles of incense burne : 
Their publique shewes, kept at solemnities : 

We passe : and tell how King and Queene did meet, 
Where he with zeale, she him with guile did greet. 

He (noble Lord) fearelesse of hidden treason, 
Sweetely salutes this weeping Crocodile : 
Excusing euery cause with instant reason 
That kept him from her sight so long a while : 
She faintly pardons him ; smiling by Art, 
(For life was in her lookes, death in her hart). 

For pledge that I am pleas'd receiue (quoth shee) 
This rich wrought robe, thy Clytemnestras toile : 
Her ten yeeres worke this day shal honour thee, 
For ten yeeres war, and one dales glorious spoile. 
Whilst thou contendedst there, I heere did this 
Weare it my loue, my life, my ioy, my blisse. 

R 2 

124 Cassandra. 

Scarce had the Syren said, what I haue writ, 
But he (kind Prince) by her milde words misled, 
Receiu'd the robe, to trie if it were fit ; 
(The robe) that had no issue for his head : 
Which, whilst he vainly hoped to haue found, 
^gistus pierst him with a mortal wound. 

Oh how the Troyan Damzell was amazed 
To see so fell and bloudy a Tragedie, 
Performed in one Act ; she naught but gazed, 
Vpon the picture ; whom shee dead did see ; 
Before her face : whose body she emballms, 
With brennish teares, and sudden deadly qualms. 

Paine would she haue fled backe on her swift horse 
But Clytemnestra bad her be content, 
Her time was com'n : now bootlesse vsd she force. 
Against so many ; whom this Tygresse sent 
To apprehend her : who (within one hower 
Brought backe againe) was lockt within a Tower. 

Cassandra. 125 

Now is she ioylesse, friendlesse, and (in fine) 
Without all hope of further libertie : 
Insteed of cates, cold water was her wine, 
And Agamemnom cups her meate must be, 
Or els she must for hunger starue (poore sole) 
What could she do but make great mone & dole. 

So darke the dungeon was, wherein she was, 
That neither Sunne (by day) nor Mone (by night) 
Did shew themselues ; and thus it came to passe. 
The Sunne denide to lend his glorious light 

To such a periur'd wight, or to be scene ; 

(What neede shee light, that ouer-light had bin ?) 

Now silent night drew on ; when all things sleepe, 
Saue theeues, and cares ; and now stil mid-night came 
When sad Cassandra did nought els but weepe ; 
Oft calling on her Agamemnons name. 
But seeing that the dead did not replie, 
Thus she begins to moume, lament and one. 

126 Cassandra. 

Oh cruell Eortune (mother of despaire,) 
Well art thou christen 'd with a cruell name : 
Since thou regardest not the wise, or faire, 
But do'st bestow thy riches (to thy shame) 

On fooles & lowly swaines, that care not for thee 
And yet I weepe, and yet thou dost abhorre me. 

Pie on ambition, fie on filthy pride, 
The roote of ill, the cause of all my woe : 
On whose fraile yce my youth first slipt aside, 
And falling downe receiu'd a fatall blow. 
Ah who hath liu'd to see such miserie 
As I haue done, and yet I cannot die ? 

I liu'd (quoth she) to see Troy set a fire : 
I liu'd to see renowned Sector slaine : 
I liu'd to see the shame of mv desire : 
And yet I liue to feele my grieuovs paine ; 
Let all young maides example take by me. 
To keepe their oathes, and spotlesse chastity 

Cassandra. 127 

Happy are they, that neuer Ku'd to know 

What 'tis to liue iu this world happily : 

Happy are they which neuer yet felt woe : 

Happy are they, that die in infancie : 

Whose sins are cancell'd in their mothers wombe : 
Whose cradle is their graue, whose lap their tomb. 

Heere ended shee ; & then her teares began, 
That (Chorus-like) at euery word downe rain'd. 
Which like a paire of christall fountaines ran, 
Along her louely cheekes : with roses stained : 
Which as they wither still (for want of raine) 
Those siluer showers water them againe. 

Now had the poore-mans clock (shrill chauntycleare) 
Twice giuen notice of the Mornes approach, 
(That then began in glorie to appeare, 
Drawne in her stately colour'd saffron- coach) 
When shee (poore Lady) almost turn'd to teares, 
Began to teare and rend her golden haires. 

128 Cassandra. 

Lie there (quoth she) the workers of my woes ; 
You trifling toies, which my liues staine haue hin 
You by whose meanes our coines chiefly growes, 
Clothing the backe with pride, the soule with sin : 

Lie there (quoth shee) the causers of my care ; 

This said, her robes, she all in peices tare. 

Herewith, as weary of her wretched life, 
(Which shee inioy'd with small fselicitie) 
She ends her fortune with a fatall knife ; 
(Eirst day of ioy, last day of miserie :) 
Then why is death accounted Nature's foe. 
Since death (indeed) is but the end of woe ? 

Eor as by death her bodie was released 
Prom that strong prison made of lime & stone ; 
Euen so by death her purest soule was eased, 
Prom bodies prison, and from endlesse mone : 
Where now shee walkes in sweete Elysium 
(The place for wrongfuU Death and Martirdum.) 


IV. (a) the encomion of lady pecunia. 

(b) the complaint of poetrie for the death of 


(c) the combat betweene conscience and COUETOUS- 




Note. — Besides the fac-similes of the original title-pages of the Encomion of Lady 
Pecunia, &c. (1598) there precede it (in print) the title-page of the new edition of 
1605. Mr. Collier has reprinted both— the latter a superfluity, as the additions are of 
no extent. In the places these additions are added, and also the few varice lectiones. 
Mr. Collier imagined that the Bridgewater copy of the 1605 edition was unique, but 
there is a second in the Bodleian. See our Introduction on Mr. Collier's mistaken 
withdrawal of Barnefield's charming Ode from him to Shakespeare; also the Isham 
MS., at close of this volume, for the sonnet-dedicatory with a gift-copy of " Lady 
Pecunia," which is foimd (without the name of Spencer) in 1605 edition. — G. 




The Encomion of Lady Pecunia 


The praife of Money, 

qtUrendapeCHHtap-imftm efi, 
VtrtuipofinHmntcs. Horace. 

By Richard Bdmfeild, GratJuale in Oxford, 


Printed by G.S. for lohn laggard, and arc to 

be foldc at his shoppc ncere Tcmple-barre, at the 

Signc of the Hand and ftarrc. 








^f^t Complaint of ^JofttB for tfte JBeati) 
of Hiteralits. 


Printed by W. I., and are to bee sold by John 

Hodgets, dwelling in Paules Churchyard, a 

little beneath Paules Schoole. 1605. 

s 2 


Led by the swift report of winged Eame, 

With silver trumpet sounding forth your name, 
To you I dedicate this merry Muse, 

And for my patron I your fauour chuse : 

She is a lady, she must be respected ; 

She is a queene, she may not be neglected. 
This is the shadow, you the substance have. 
Which substance now this shadow seems to crave. 





qucerenda pecunta primum est, 

Virtus post nummos. — Horace. 



Printed by G. S. for lohn laggard, and are to 

be solde at his shoppe neere Temple-barre, at the 

Signe of the Hand and starre. 



lENTLEMEN, being incouraged through your gentle 
acceptance of my Cynthia, I haue once more aduen- 
tured on your Curtesies : hoping to finde you (as I 
haue done heretofore) friendly. Being determined to 
write of somthing, & yet not resolued of any thing, I 
considered with my selfe, if one should write of Loue (they will 
say) why, euery one writes of Loue : if of Vertue, why, who re- 
gards Vertue ? To be short, I could thinke of nothing, but either 
it was common, or not at all in request. At length I bethought 
my selfe of a Subiect, both new (as hauing neuer beene written vp- 
on before) and pleasing (as I thought) because Mans Nature (com- 
monly) loues to heare that praised, with whose pressence hee is 
most pleased. 

Erci87nus (the glory of Netherlands and the refiner of the Latin 
Tongue) wrote a whole Booke, in the prayse of Folly. Then if so 
excellent a Scholler, writ in praise of Vanity, why may not I write 
in praise of that which is profitable ? There are no two Countreys, 
where Gold is esteemed lesse than in India, and more then in Eng- 
land : the reason is, because the Indians are barbarous, and our Na- 
tion ciuill. 

I haue giuen Pecnnia the title of a Woman, Both for the termi- 
nation of the Word, and because (as Women are) shee is lov'd of 
men. The brauest Voyages in the World haue beene made for 
Gold : for it, men haue venterd (by Sea) to the furthest parts of the 


136 To the Gentlemen Readers. 

Earth : In the Pursute whereof, Englands Nestor and Neptune {Hat 
kins and Drake') lost their Hues. Vpon the Deathes of the whicl 
two, of the first I writ this : 

The Waters were his Winding sheete^ the Sea was made his Toome; 
Yet for his fame the Ocean Sea, was not sufficient roome. 

Of the latter this : 

England his hart ; his Corps the Waters haue : 
And that which raysd his fame, became his grave. 

The JPrcetorians (after the death of Pertinax) in the election of a 
new Emperour, more esteemed the money of lulianus, then either 
the vertue of Seuerus, or the Valour of Pessenius. Then of what 
great estimation and account, this Lady Pecunia, both hath beene 
in the Worlde, and is at this present, I leaue to your Judgement. 
But what speak e I so much of her praise in my Epistle, that haue 
commended her so at large, in my Booke ? To the reading wherof, 
(Gentlemen) I referre you. 


lyy HE ^a 


SING not of Angellica the faire, 
(For whom the Palladine of Fraunce fell mad) 
Nor of sweet Roscmiond, olde Cliffords heu'e, 
(Whose death did make the second Renry sad) 

But of the fairest Faire Pecuniae 

The famous Queene of rich America. 

Goddesse of Golde, great Empresse of the Earth, 
O thou that canst doe all Thinges vnder Heauen 
That doost conuert the saddest minde to Mirth ; 
(Of whom the elder Age was quite bereauven) 

Of thee He sing, and in thy Prayse He write ; 

You golden Angela helpe me to indite. 


138 The prayse of 


You, you alone, can make my Muse to speake ; 

And tell a golden Tale, with siluer Tongue : 

You onely can my pleasing silence breake ; 

And adde some Musique, to a merry Songue : 
But amongst all the fine, in Musicks Art, 
I would not sing the Cotmter-tQnov part.^ 

The Meane is best, and that I meane to keepe ; 
So shall I keepe my selfe from That I meane : 
Lest with some Others, I be forc'd to weepe. 
And cry Peccaui, in a dolefuU Scsene. 
But to the matter which I haue in hand. 
The Lady Eegent, both by Sea and Land. 

When Saturne liu'd, and wore the Kingly Crowne, 
(And loue was yet vnborne, but not vnbred) 
This Ladies fame was then of no renowne ; 
(For Golde was then, no more esteem'd then Lead) 
Then Truth and Honesty were onely vs'd, 
Siluer and Golde were vtterly refused. 


' I worst can brooke the Counter-tenor part (1605). 

Lady Pecunia. 139 

But when the Worlde grew wiser in Conceit, 
And saw how Men in manners did decline. 
How Charitie began to loose her heate. 
And One did at anothers good repine, 

Then did the Aged, first of all respect her ; 

And vowd from thenceforth, neuer to reiect her. 

Thus with the "Worlde, her beauty did increase ; 

And manie Suters had she to obtaine her : 

Some sought her in the Wars ; and some in peace ; ^ 

But few of youthful! age, could euer gaine her : 

Or if they did, she soone was gone againe ; 

And would with them, but little while remaine. • 

For why against the Nature of her Sexe, 
(That commonlie dispise the feeble Olde) 
Shee, loues olde men ; but young men she reiects ; 
Because to her, their Loue is quicklie colde : 
Olde men (like Husbands icalous of their Wiues) 
Lock her vp fast, and keepe her as their Lines. 

t2 • 

140 The prayse of 

The young man carelesse to maintaine his life, 
Neglects her Loue (as though he did abhor her) 
like one that hardly doeth obtaine a wife, 
And when he hath her once, he cares not for her : 
Shee, seeing that the young man doeth despyse her, 
Leaues the franke heart and flies vnto the Myser. 

Hee intertaines her, with a ioyfuU hart ; 

And seemes to rue her vndeserued wrong : 

And from his Pressence, she shall neuer part ; 

Or if she doo, he thinks her Absence long : 
And oftentimes he sends for her againe, 
Whose life without her, cannot long remaine. 

And when he hath her, in his owne possession, 

He locks her in an iron-barred Chest, 

And doubting somewhat, of the like Transgression, 

He holds that iron-walled Prison best. 

And least some rusty sicknesse should infect her, 
He often visits her, and doeth respect her. 


Lady Pecunia. 141 

As for the young man (subiect vnto sinne) 
No maruell though the Diuell doe distresse him ; 
To tempt mans frailtie, which doth neuer linne 
Who many times, hath not a Crosse to blesse him : 

But how can hee incurre the Heauens Curse. 

That hath so many Crosses in his Purse ? 

Hee needes ^ not feare those wicked sprights, that waulke 

Vnder the Couerture of cole-blacke Night ; 

For why the Diuell still, a Crosse doeth baulke, 

Because on it, was hangd the Lorde of Light : 
But let not Mysers trust to siluer Crosses, 
Least in the End, their gaines be turnd to losses. 

But what care they, so they may hoorde vp golde ? 

Either for God, or Diuell, or Heauen, or Hell ? 

So they may faire Fecumaes face behold ; 

And euery Day, their Mounts of Money tell. 
What tho to count their Coyne, they neuer blin, 
Count they their Coyne, and counts not God their sin ? 

' needs, 160S. 

142 The pray se of 

But what talke I of sinne, to Vsurers ? 

Or looke for mendment, at a Mysers hand ? 

Fecunia, hath so many followers, 

Bootlesse it is, her Power to with-stand. 
King Couetise, and Warinesse his Wife, 
The Parents were, that first did giue her Life. 

But now vnto her Praise I will proceede. 
Which is as ample, as the Worlde is wide : 
What great Contentment doth her Pressence hreede 
In him, that can his wealth with Wysdome guide ? 
She is the Soueraigne Queene, of all Delights : 
Por her the Lawyer pleades : the Souldier fights. 

Por her, the Merchant venters on the Seas : 

Por her, the Scholler studdies at his Booke : 

Por her, the Vsurer (with greater ease) 

Por sillie fishes, layes a siluer hooke : 

Por her, the Townsman leaues the Countrey Village 
Por her, the Plowman giues himselfe to Tillage. 


Lady Pecunia. 143 

For her, the Gentleman doeth raise his rents : 
For her, the Seruingman attends his maister : 
For her, the curious head new toyes inuents : 
For her, to Sores, the Surgeon layes his plaister. 
In fine for her, each man in his Vocation, 
Applies himselfe, in euerie sev'rall Nation. 

What can thy hart desire, but thou mayst haue it. 
If thou hast readie money to disburse ? 
Then thanke thy Fortune, that so freely gaue it ; 
For of all friends, the surest is thy purse. 

Friends may proue false, and leaue thee in thy need ; 

But still thy Purse will bee thy friend indeed. 

Admit thou come, into a place vnknowne ; 
And no man knowes, of whome, or what thou art : 
If once thy faire Fecunia, shee bee showne, 
Thou art esteem' d a man of great Desart : 

And placed at the Tables vpper cnde ; 

Not for thine owne sake, but thy faithfull frende.' 


' Not for thine own soke but thy trusty friend (1605). 

144 The pray se of 

But if you want your Ladies louely grace, 
And haue not wherewithal! to pay your shot. 
Your Hostis pressently will step in Place, 
You are a Stranger (Sir) I know you not : 

By trusting Diuers, I am run in Det ; 

Therefore of mee, nor meate nor Bed you get. 

O who can then, expresse the worthie praise. 

Which faire JPecunia iustly doeth desarue ? 

That can the meanest man, to Honor raise ; 

And feed the soule, that ready is to starue. 
Affection, which was wont to bee so pure, 
Against a golden Siege, may not endure.^ 

Witnesse the Trade of Mercenary sinne, 
(Or Occupation, if you like to tearme it) 
Where faire Fecunia must the suite beginne ; 
(As common-tride Experience doeth confirme it) 
Not Mercury himselfe, with siluer Tongue, 
Can so inchaunt, as can a golden Songue. 


' Against his golden Siege may not endnre (1605). 

Lady Pecunia. 145 

When nothing could subdue the Fhrygimi Troy^ 

(That Citty through the world so much renowned) 

Pecunia did her vtterly destroy : 

And left her fame, in darke Obliuion drowned. 
And many Citties since, no lesse in fame. 
For Loue of her, haue yeelded to their shame. 

What Thing is then, so well belov'd as money ? 
It is a speciall Comfort to the minde ; 
More faire then Women are ; more sweet then honey 
Easie to loose, hut very harde to finde. 

In fine, to him, whose Purse beginns to faint, 

Golde is a God, and Siluer is a Saint. 

The Tyme was once, when Honestie was counted 
A Demy god ; and so esteem'd of all ; 
But now Pecunia on his Seate is mounted ; 
Since Honestie in great Disgrace did fall. 

No state, no Calling now, doeth him esteeme; 

Nor of the other ill, doeth any deeme. 


146 The prayse of 

The reason is, because he is so poore : 
(And who respects the poore, and needie Creature ? ) 
Still begging of his almes, from Doore to Doore : 
All ragd, and torne ; and eeke deformd in feature. 

In Countenance so changde, that none can know him ; 

So weake, that euery vice doeth ouerthrow him. 

But faire ^ Pecunia, (most diuinely bred) 
Por sundrie shapes, doth Proteus selfe surpasse : 
In one Lande, she is suted all in Lead ; 
And in another, she is clad in Brasse : 
But still within the Coast of Albion^ 
She euer puts, her best Apparell on. 

Siluer and Golde, and nothing else is currant. 
In EnglandSi in faire Englands happy Land : 
All baser sortes of Mettalls, haue no Warrant ; 
Yet secretly they slip^ from hand to hand. 
If any such be tooke, the same is lost, 
And pressently is nayled on a Post. 


fayre, 1606. 

Lady Pecunia. 147 

Which with Quick-siluer, being flourisht ouer, 
Seemes to be perfect Siluer, to the showe : 
As Woemens paintings, their defects doe couer, 
Vnder this false attyre, so doe they goe. 
If on a woolen Cloth, thou rub the same. 
Then will it straight beginne to blush, for shame. 

If chafed on thy haire, till it be hot. 
If it good Siluer bee, the scent is sweete : 
If counterfeit, thy chafing hath begot 
A ranke-smelt sauour ; for a Queene vnmeete : 
Fecimia is a Queene, for her Desarts, 
And in the Decke, may goe for Queene of harts. 

The Queene of harts, because she rules all harts ; 
And hath all harts, obedient to her Will : 
Whose Bounty, fame vnto the Worlde imparts ; 
And with her glory, all the Worlde doeth fill : 

The Queene of Diamonds, she cannot bee ; 

There is but one, ELIZA, thou art shee.' 


There was bnt one; Eliza, tboa wast ahee (1606). 


148 The prayse of 

And thou art shee, O sacred Soueraigne ;^ 
Whom God hath helpt with his Al-mighty hand :^ 
Blessing thy People, with thy peacefull raigne ; 
And made this little Land, a happy Land : 

May all those Hue, that wish long life to thee,^ 

And all the rest, perish eternally. 

The tyme was once, when faire Fecunia, here 
Did basely goe attyred all in Leather : 
But since her raigne, she neuer did appeere ^ 
But richly clad ; in Golde, or Siluer either : 
Nor reason is it, that her Golden raigne 
With baser Coyne, eclypsed should remaine. 

And as the Coyne she hath repurifyde,^ 
From baser substance, to the purest Mettels : 
Religion so, hath shee refinde beside, 
From Papistrie, to Truth ; which daily settles 

Within her Peoples harts ; though some there bee,^ 
That cleaue vnto their wonted Papistrie. 

' And thou wast she, sacred soveraigne (1605). 

* Whom God did ayde M'ith his Al-mighty hand (1605). 
^ Thy peace on earth begun, in heauen made pure, 

There crowned with lasting joy: O joy most sure ! (1605). 

* But in Elizas raigne, it did appeare 

Most richly clad; in golde or silver either (1605). 

* And as the Coine she did repurifie (1605). 

* Within the Peoples hearts: Though some there be (1605). 


Lady Pecunia. 


No flocke of sheepe, but some are still infected : 
No peece of Lawne so pure, but hath some fret : 
All buildings are not strong that are erected : 
All Plants proue not, that in good ground are set : 
Some tares are sowne, amongst the choicest seed : 
No garden can be cleansd of euery Weede.* 

But now to her, whose praise is here pretended, 
(Diuine Pecunia) fairer then tlie morne : 
Which cannot be sufficiently commended ; 
Whose Sun-bright Beauty doeth the Worlde adorne, 

Adorns the World, but specially the Purse ; 

Without whose pressence, nothing can be woorse. 

Not faire Scesione (King Priams sister) 
Did euer showe more Beauty, in her face. 
Then can this lonely Lady, if it list her 
To showe her selfe ; admir'd for comely grace : 

Which neither Age can weare, nor Tyme conclude ; 

Por why, her Beauty yeerely is renude. 


In 1605 edition these five new stanzas come here: 

But now more Angels then on Earth yet weare 
Her golden Impresse; haue to Ileauen attended 
Hir Virgiu-soule; now, now she soiourns there, 
Tasting more ioycs then may be comprehended. 

Life, she hath changdc for life (oh countlese 

An eartblie rule, for an etemall Raigne. 

Such a Successor leaning in her stead, 
So peerelesse worthie, and so lloyall wise; 
In nim her vertnes liue, thongh she be dead: 
Bountic and Zealc, in him both Soneranizc. 
To him aloue [<Jc] Pecunia doth obay. 
He ruling her, that doth all others sway. 

Bounty, that when she sickncd, cras'd and fainted. 
And when she left the earth had almost died; 
H9ping with her, in heauen to haue bin sainted, 
And mongst the rest an Angels place supplycd: 

This King hath cherisht, and his life assured, 
And of a long consumption, Bonnti's cnretl. 

Plenty and Peace A-pon his Throne attend, 
Health and Content, vpon his person wait : 
Conquest and Fame, his Royaltie defend. 
May all good Planets Smile upon his state. 
By whom ail-drooping vertnes are reuinc<l. 
And dying-Bounty, made againe long lined. 

The hand of Heauen still take him to his keeping, 
Him, in no danger, in no doubt forsaking; 
A thousand of his Angels giiardo him Slwping, 
And all the boast of heauen protect him waking. 
That he in safety, peace and rest, may reigne. 
Whilst the two Poles, the frame of heuen 
sustain. . 

150 The pray se of 

New coyne is coynd each yeare, within the Tower ;' 
So that her Beauty neuer can decay : 
Which to resist, no mortall man hath Power, 
When as she doeth her glorious Beames display. 
Nor doeth Fecunia, onely please the eie, 
But charms the eare, with heauenly Harmonic. 

Lyke to an other Orpheus, can she play 

Vpon her treble JSarpe, whose siluer sound 

Inchaunts the eare, and steales the hart away : 

Nor hardly can deceit, therein be found." 

Although such Musique, some a Shilling cost, 
Yet it is worth but Nine-pence , at the most.' 

Had I the sweet inchaunting Tongue of Tully, 

That charmd the hearers, lyke the Syrens Song ; 

Yet could I not describe the Prayses fully. 

Which to Pecunia iustly doe belong.'* 
Let it suffice, her Beauty doeth excell : 
Whose praise no Pen can paint, no Tongue can tell. 


New Coine is yearlie stamped in the Tower, 
But these faire daies of joy, addes alteration: 
In faire Elizaes raigne, none had that power; 
But kingly glorie, clothes her new in fashion, 
Ads beautie to her beames, by adding more 
Then grayest haires in life, ere saw before. 

Stand forth who can and tell, and truelie sale. 
When England, Scotland, Ireland, and France, 
He euer saw Pecunia to displaie 
Before these daies ; O wondrous happie chance 
Nor doth Pecunia onelie please the eie 
But charmes the eare with heauenlie harmony. 

* That hardlie the deceit thereof is found (1605). 
^ This new stanza added here in 1605 edition: — 

But Ireland alone, this Musicks sound 
Being clad in Siluer, challenge, for their coine, 
What though amongst vs much thereof be found, 
Authoritie, no subject dooth inioyne 

Aboue his worth to countenance the same, 
•♦ Then men, not coin, are worthy of that blame. 
* Which to Pecunia justly doth belong (1605). 

Lady Pecunta. 151 

Then how shall I describe, with artlesse Pen, 
The praise of her, whose praise, all praise surmounteth ? 
Breeding amazement, in the mindes of men : 
Of whom, this pressent Age so much accounteth. 
Varietie of Words, would sooner want. 
Then store of plentious matter, would be scant. ^ 

Whether yee list, to looke into the Citty : 
(Where money tempts the poore Beholders eye) 
Or to the Countrey Townes, deuoyde of Pitty : 
(Where to the poore, each place doeth almes denye) 
All Things for money now, are bought and solde. 
That either hart can thinke, or eie beholde. 

Nay more for money (as report doeth tell) 
Thou mayst obteine a Pardon for thy sinnes : 
The Pope of Homey for money will it sell ; 
(Whereby thy soule, no small saluation winnes) 
But how can bee, (of Pride the chiefe Beginner) 
Forgiue thy sinnes, that is himselfe a sinner ? 


' Then store of plentious matters would be scant (1606). 

152 The prayse of 

Then, sith the Pope is subiect vnto sinne, 
No maruell tho diuine Pecunia tempt him, 
With her faire Beauty ; whose good-will to winne, 
Each one contends ; and shall we then exempt him. 
Did neuer mortall man, yet looke vpon her, 
But straightwies he became, enamourd on her. 

Yet would I wish, the Wight that loues her so, 
And hath obtain'd the like good-will againe, 
To vse her wisely, lest shee proue his foe ; 
And so, in stead of Pleasure, breed his paine. 
She may be kyst ; but she must not be cli/pt 
Lest such Delight in bitter gall be dypt. 

The iuyce of grapes, which is a soueraigne Thin^ 
To cheere the hart, and to reuiue the spirits ; 
Being vsde immoderatly (in surfetting.) 
E-ather Dispraise, then commendation merits : 

Euen so Fecunia, is, as shee is vsed ; 

Good of her selfe, but bad if once abused. 


Lady Pecunia. 153 

With her, the Tenant pays his Landlords rent : * 

On her, depends the stay of euery state : 

To her, rich Pressents euery day are sent : 

In her, it rests to end all dire Debate : 

Through her, to Wealth, is raisd the Countrey Boore : 
From her, proceedes much proffit to the poore. 

Then how can I, sufB.ciently commend. 
Her Beauties worth, which makes the World to wonder ? 
Or end her prayse, whose prayses haue no End ? 
Whose absence brings the stoutest stomack vnder : 

Let it suffice, Pecunia hath no peere ; 

No Wight, no Beauty held ; more faire, more deere. 


His Prayer to Pecunia. 

Great Lady, sith I haue compylde thy Prayse, 
(According to my skill and not thy merit :) 
And sought thy Fame aboue the starrs to rayse ; 
(Had I sweete Ovids vaine, or Vvrgila spirit) 
I craue no more but this, for my good-will, 
That in my Want, thou wilt supplye me still. 

With her the Tenant pajea the Ijandlords rent (1605). 




Viuit post Junei'a virtns. 


Printed by G. S. for lohn laggard, and are to 

be solde at his shoppe neere Temple-barre, at the 

Signe of the Hand' and starre. 



Note, — In the ' Complaint,' &c. of 1605, there are slight changes of spelling, as 
' weep ' for ' weepe,' ' bountie ' for ' bounty,' &c. but it is not deemed necessary to record 
them either herein or in the remaining portions. — G. 

To his Worshipful! wel-willer, Mai- 
ster Edward Leigh, of Grayes Inne. 

IMAGE of that, whose losse is here lamented ; 
(In whom, so many vertues are contained) 
Daine to accept, what I haue now presented. 
Though Bounties death, herein be only fained, 
If in your mind, she not reuiue (with speed) 
Then will I sweare, that shee is dead indeed.' 

Omitted in 1605 edition. 



Weepe Heauens now, for you haue lost your light ; 
Ye Sunne and Moone, beare witnesse of my mone : 
The cleere is turnd to clouds ; the day to night ; 
And all my hope, and all my ioy is gone : 

Bounty is dead, the cause of my annoy ; 

Bounty is dead, and with her dide my ioy. 

O who can comfort my afflicted soule ? 
Or adde some ende to my increasing sorrowes ? 
Wlio can deliuer me from endlesse dole ? 
(Which from my hart eternall torment borrowes.) 

When Bounty liu'd, I bore the Bell away ; 

When Bounty dide, my credit did decay. 

160 The Complaint of Poetrie 

I neuer then, did write one ^ verse in vaine ; 
Nor euer went my Poems vnregarded : 
Tlien did each Noble breast me intertaine, 
And for my Labours I was well rewarded ; 

But now Good wordes, are stept in Bounties place, 
Thinking thereby, her glorie to disgrace. 

But who can liue with words, in these hard tymes ? 
(Although they came from lupiter himselfe ?) 
Or who can take such Paiment, for his Bymes ? 
("When nothing now, is so esteem'd as Pelfe ?) 

Tis not Good wordes, that can a man maintaine ; 

Wordes are but winde ; and winde is all but vaine. 

Where is Meccenas, Learnings noble Patron ? 

•(That Maroes Muse, with Bountie so did cherish ?) 

Or faire Zenohia, that worthy Matron ? 

(Whose name, for Learnings Loue, shall neuer perish) 
What tho their Bodies, be full lowe in graue, 
Their fame the worlde ; their souls the Heauens haue. 


' 1605 "on." 

for the Death of Liheralitie. 161 

Vile Auariday how hast thou inchaunted 
The Nohle mindes, of great and mightie Men 
Or what infernall furie late hath haunted 
Their niggard purses ? (to the learned pen) 
Was it Augustus wealth, or noble minde, 
That euerlasting fame, to him assinde ? 

If wealth ? Why Croesus was more rich then hee ; 
(Yet Croesus glorie, with his life did end) 
It was his Noble mind, that moued mee 
To write his praise, and alle his Acts commend. 
Who ere had heard, of Alexanders fame, 
If Quintus Curtius had not pend the same ? 

Then sith by mee, their deedes haue been declared, 
(Which else had perisht with their Hues decay) 
Who to augment their glories, haue not spared 
To crowne their browes, with neuer-fading Bay : 
What Art deserues such Liheralitie, 
As doeth the peerlesse Art of Poetrie ? 


162 The Complaint of Poetrie 

But Liberalitie is dead and gone : 
And Auarice vsurps true Bounties seat. 
Por her it is, I make this endlesse mone, 
(Whose praises worth no pen can well repeat) 
Sweet Liberalitie adiew for euer, 
For Poetrie againe, shall see thee neuer. 

Neuer againe, shall I thy presence see : 
Neuer againe, shal I thy bountie tast : 
Neuer againe, shall I accepted bee : 
Neuer againe, shall I be so embrac't : 
Neuer againe, shall I the bad recall : 
Neuer againe, shall I be lou'd of all. 

Thou wast the Nurse, whose Bountie gaue me sucke : 
Thou wast the Sunne, whose beames did lend me light 
Thou wast the Tree, whose fruit I still did plucke : 
Thou wast the Patron, to maintaine my right : 

Through thee I liu'd ; on thee I did relie ; 

In thee I ioy'd ; and now for thee I die. 


for the Death of Ldberalitie. 163 

What man, hath lately lost a faithfull frend ? 
Or Husband, is depriued of his Wife ? 
But doth his after-daies in dolour spend ? 
(Leading a loathsome, discontented life ? ) 

Dearer then friend, or wife, haue I forgone ; 

Then maruell not, although I make such mone. 

Faire Fhilomela, cease thy sad complaint ; 
And lend thine eares, vnto my dolefull Ditty : 
(Whose soule with sorrowe, now begins to faint, 
And yet I cannot moue mens hearts to pitty : ) 
Thy woes are light, compared vnto mine : 
You waterie Nymphes, to mee your plaints resigne. 

And thou Melpomene^ (the Muse of Death) 
That neuer sing'st, but in a dolefull straine ; 
Sith cruell Destinie hath stopt her breath, 
(Who whilst she liu'd was Vertues Soueraigne) 
Leaue Sellicon, (whose bankes so pleasant bee) 
And beare a part of sorrowe now with me. 


164 The Complaint of Poetrie 

The Trees (for sorrowe) shead their fading Leaues, 
And weepe out gum, in stead of other Teares ; 
Comfort nor ioy, no Creature now conceiues, 
To chirpe and sing, each little bird forbeares. 

The sillie Sheepe, hangs downe his * drooping head. 
And all because, that Bounty she is dead. 

The greater that I feele my griefe to be, 

The lesser able, am I to expresse it ; 

Such is the nature of extremitie, 

The heart it som-thing eases, to confesse it. 

Therefore He wake my muse, amidst her sleeping. 
And what I want in wordes, supplie with weeping. 

Weepe still mine eies, a Riuer full of Teares, 
To drowne my Sorrowe in, that so molests me ; 
And rid my head of cares ; my thoughts of feares : 
Exiling sweet Content, that so detests me. 
But ah (alas) my Teares are almost dun. 
And yet my griefe, it is but new begun. 


1605 " her." 

for the Death of Liber alitie. 165 

Euen as the Sunne, when as it leaues our sight, 
Doth shine with those Antipodes beneath vs ; 
Lending the other worlde her glorious light, 
And dismall Darknesse, onely doeth bequeath vs : 
Euen so sweet Bounties seeming dead to mee, 
Liues now to none, but smooth-Tongd Platterie. 

O Adulation^ Canker- worme of Truth ; 
The flattring Glasso of Pride, and Self-conceit : 
(Making olde wrinkled Age, appeare like youth) 
Dissimulations Maske, and follies Beate : 
Pittie it is, that thou art so rewarded. 
Whilst Truth and Honestie, goe vnregarded. 

O that Nobilitie, it selfe should staine, 
In being bountifuU, to such vile Creatures : 
Who, when they flatter most, then most they faine ; 
Knowing what humor best, will fit their Natures. 
What man so mad, that knowes himselfe but pore, 
And will beleeue that he hath riches store. 


166 The Complaint of Poetrie 

Vpon a time, the craftie Foxe did flatter 
The foolish Pye (whose mouth was full of meate) 
The Pye beleeuing him, began to chatter. 
And sing for ioy, (not hauing list to eate) 

And whils't the foolish Pye, her meate let fall, 
The craftie Poxe, did runne awaie with all. 

Terence describeth vnder Gnatoes name. 

The right conditions of a Parasyte : 

(And with such Eloquence, sets foorth the same, 

As doeth the learned Reader much delyght) 
Shewing, that such a sycophant as Gnato, 
Is more esteem' d, then twentie such as Plato. 

Bounty looke backe, vpon thy goods mispent ; 

And thinke how ill, thou hast bestow'd thy mony : 

Consider not their wordes, but their intent ; 

Their hearts are gall, although their tongues be hony 
They speake not as they thinke, but all is fained, 
And onely to th' intent to be maintained. 


for the Death of Ldberalitie. 167 

And herein happie, I areade the poore ; 
No flattring Spanyels, fawne on them for meate : 
The reason is, because the Gountrey Boore 
Hath little enough, for himself e to eate : 

No man will flatter him, except himselfe ; 

And why ? because he hath no store of wealth. 

But sure it is not Liberalitie 

That doeth reward these fawning smel-feasts so 

It is the vice of Prodigalitie, 

That doeth the Bankes of Bowity ouer-flo : 

Bounty is dead : yea so it needes must bee ; 

Or if aliue, yet is shee dead to mee. 

Therefore as one, whose friend is lately dead, 
I will bewaile the death, of my deere * frend ; 
Vppon whose Tombe, ten thousand Teares He shead. 
Till drearie Death, of mee shall make an end : 
Or if she want a Toombe, to her desart, 
Oh then. He burie her within my hart. 


1605 " late." 

168 The Complaint of Poetrie 

But {Bounty) if thou loue a Tombe of stone, 
Oh then seeke out, a hard and stonie hart : 
Eor were mine so, yet would it melt with mone. 
And all because, that I with thee must part. 
Then, if a stonie hart must thee interr, 
Goe finde a Step -dame, or a Vsurer. 

And sith there dies no Wight, of great account, 
But hath an Epitaph compos'd by mee. 
Bounty, that did all other far surmount, 
Vpon her Tombe, this Epitaph shall bee : 

Sere lies the Wight, that Learning did maintaine. 
And at the last, by A VABICB was slaine. 

Vile Auarice, why hast thou kildd my Deare ? 

And robd the World, of such a worthy Treasure ? 

In whome no sparke of goodnesse doth appeare, 

So greedie is thy mind, without all measure. 

Thy death, from Death did merit to release her : 
The Murtherers deseru'd to die, not Ccesar. 


for the Death of Liheralitie. 169 

The Merchants wife ; the ^ Tender-harted Mother : 
That leaues her Loue ; whose Sonne is prest for warre ; 
(Resting, the one ; as woefull as the other ;) 
Hopes yet at length ; when ended is the iarre ; 
To see her Hushand ; see her Sonne againe : 
"Were it not then for Hope, the hart were slaine. 

But I, whose hope is turned to despaire, 
Nere looke to see my dearest Deare againe : 
Then Pleasure sit thou downe, in Sorrowes Chaire, 
And (for a while) thy wonted Mirth refraine. 
Boimty is dead, that whylome was my Treasure : 
Bounty is dead, my ioy and onely pleasure. 

If Pythias death, of Damon were bewailed ; 

Or Fillades did rue, Orestes ende : 

If Hercules, for Hylas losse were quailed ; 

Or Theseus, for Pyrithous Teares did spend : 
When doe I mourne for Bounty, being dead : 
Who lining, was my hand, my hart, ray head. 


' 1606 "and." 

170 The Complaint of Poetrie 

My hand, to lielpe mee, in my greatest need : 
My hart, to comfort mee, in my distresse : 
My head, whom onely I obeyd, indeed : 
If shee were such, how can my griefe be lesse ? 

Perhaps my wordes, may pierce the ParccB's ' eares ; 

If not with wordes, He moue them with my teares. 

But ah (alas) my Teares are spent in vaine, 
(For she is dead, and I am left aliue) 
Teares cannot call, sweet Bounty backe againe ; 
Then why doe I, gainst Pate and Fortune striue ? 

And for her death, thus weepe, lament, and crie ; 

Sith euery mortall wight, is borne to die. 

But as the woefull mother doeth lament. 
Her tender babe, with cruell Death opprest : 
Whose life was spotlesse, pure, and innocent, 
(And therefore sure, its soule is gone to rest) 
So Bounties which her selfe did vpright keepe. 
Yet fo? her losse, loue cannot chuse but weep. 


' 1605, not a capital P. 

for the Death of Ldheralitie. 171 

The losse of her, is losse to many a one : 
The losse of her, is losse vnto the poore : 
And therefore not a losse, to mee alone, 
But vnto such, as goe from Doore to Doore. 

Her losse, is losse vnto the f atherlesse ; 

And vnto all, that are in great distresse. 

The maimed Souldier, comming from the warre ; 
The woefull wight, whose house was lately burnd ; 
The sillie soule ; the wofull Traueylar ; 
And all, whom Fortune at her feet hath spurnd ; 

Lament the losse of lAberalitie : 
" Its ease, to haue in griefe some Companie. 

The Wife of Hector (sad Andromache) 
Did not bewaile, her husbands death alone : 
But (sith he was the Troicms onely stay) 
The wiues of Troy (for him) made equall mone. 
Shee, shead the teares of Loue ; and they of pittie : 
Shee, for her deare dead Lord ; they, for their Cittie. 


172 The Complaint of Poetrie 

Nor is the Death of Liheralitie, 

(xllthough my griefe be greater than the rest) 

Onely lamented, and bewaild of mee ; 

(And yet of mee, she was beloued best) 
But, sith she was so bountiful! to all, 
Slie is lamented, both of great and small. 

O that my Teares could moue the powres diuine, 
That Bountie might be called from the dead : 
As Pitty pierc'd the hart of JProserpine ; 
Who (moued with the Teares Admetus shead) 

Did sende him backe againe, his louing Wife ; 

Who left her owne, to saue her husbands life. 

Impartial! Farcm, will no prayers moue you ? 
Can Creatures so diuine, haue stony harts ? 
Haplesse are they, whose hap it is to proue you, 
Por you respect no Creatures good Desarts. 

O Atropos, (the cruelst of the three) 

Why hast thou tane, my faithful! friend from mee ? 


for the Death of TAheralitie. 173 

But all, She cannot (or She will not) heare me, 

Or if She doo, yet may not She repent her : 

Then come (sweet Death) O why doest thou forbeare me ? 

Aye mee ! thy Dart is blunt, it will not enter. 

Oh now I knowe the cause, and reason why ; 

I am immortall, and I cannot dye. 

So CythercBa would haue dide, but could not ; 
When faire Adonis by her side lay slaine : 
So I desire the Sisters, what I should not ; 
For why (alas) I wish for Death in vaine ; 

Death is their Seruant, and obeys their will ; 

And if they bid him spare, he cannot kill. 

Oh would I were, as other Creatures are ; 

Then would I die, and so my griefe were ended : 

But Death (against my will) my life doeth spare ; 

(So little with the fates I am befrended) 

Sith, when I would, thou doost my sute denie, 
Vile Tyrant, when thou wilt, I will not die. 



The Complaint of Poetrie. 

And Bounty, though her body thou hast slaine, 
Yet shall her memorie remaine for euer : 
Eor euer, shall her memorie remaine ; 
Whereof no spitefuU Fortune can bereaue her. 

Then Sorrowe cease, and wipe thy weeping eye ; 

For Pame shall Hue, when all the World shall dye. 



Comtat, betweene 

Confcience and CouetoufneflTe, 
in the minde of Man, 

\ j Hidnon mcrtaUafeSlora cogis 
AuripKrafimes \ Virgil. 


Printed by GS. for John laggard, and arc to 

be fblde at his shoppe neere Temple- batre, at the 

Signe of the Hand and flarre. 

2 5 5^ 8. 




Auri sacra fames ? — VmaiL 

quid non mortalia pectora cogis 


Printed by G. 8. for John laggard, and are to 

be solde at his shoppe neere Temple-barre, at the 

Signe of the Hand and starre. 


To his Worshipful! good friend, 

Maister lohn Steuenton, of I>othill, in the 

County of Salop, Esquire. 

Sith Conscience (long since) is exilde the Citty, . • 

O let her in the Countrey, finde some Pitty : 
But if she he exilde, the Countrey too, 
let her finde, some fauour yet of you.* 

' Omitted in 1605 edition. 



NO W had the cole-blacke steedes, of pitchie Night, 
(Breathing out Darknesse) banisht cheerfull Light, 
And sleepe (the shaddowe of eternall rest) 
My generall senses wholy had possest. 
When loe, there was presented to my view, 
A vision strange, yet not so strange, as true. 
Conscience (me thought) appeared vnto mee. 
Cloth' d with good Deedes, with Trueth and Honestie, 
Her countinance demure, and sober sad, 
Nor any other Ornament shee had. 
Then Couetousnesse did incounter her. 
Clad in a Cassock, lyke a Vsurer, 
The Cassock, it was made of poore-mens ^ skinnes, 
Lac'd here and there, with many seuerall sinnes : 
Nor was it furd, with any common f urre ; 
Or if it were, himself e hee was the^r. 
A Bag of money, in his hande he helde, 
The which with hungry eie, he still behelde. 
The place wherein this vision first began, 
(A spacious plaine) was cald The Minde of Man. 


' In 1605 misprinU-<l *• j>o<)r men. 

2 A 2 

180 The Combat betweene 

The Carle no sooner, Conscience had espyde, 

But swelling lyke a Toade, (puft vp with pryde) 

He straight began against her to inuey : 

These were the wordes, which Couetise did sey. 

Conscience (quoth hee) how dar'st thou bee so bold, 

To claime the place, that I by right doe hold ? 

Neither by right, nor might, thou canst obtaine it : 

By might (thou knowst full well) thou canst not gaine it. 

The greatest Princes are my followars, 

The King in Peace, the Captaine in the Warres : 

The Courtier, and the simple Countrey-man ; 

The ludge, the Merchant, and the Gentleman ; 

The learned Lawyer, and the Politician : 

The skilfull Surgeon, and the fine Physician : 

In briefe, all sortes of men mee entertaine. 

And hold mee, as their Soules sole Soueraigne, 

And in my ^ quarrell they will fight and die, 

Bather then I should suffer iniurie. 

And as for title, interest, and right. 

He proue its mine by that, as well as might. 

Though Conetousnesse, were vsed long before. 

Yet ludas Treason, made my Pame the more ; 

When Christ he caused, crucifyde to bee, 

Por thirtie pence, man solde his minde to mee : 

And now adaies, what tenure is more free. 

Then that which purchas'd is, with gold and fee ? 


' 1605, " their." 

Conscience and Couetousnesse. 181 


With patience, liaue I heard thy large Complaint, 

Wherein the Diuell, would be thought a Saint : 

But wot ye what, the saying is of olde ? 

One tale is good, vntill anothers tolde. 

Truth is the right, that I must stand vpon, 

(For other title, hath poore Conscience none) 

For I will proue it, by Antiquitie, 

That thou art but an vp-start, vnto mee ; 

Before that thou wast euer thought vpon. 

The minde of Man, belongd to mee alone. 

For after that the Lord, had Man Created, 

And him in blisse-f ull Paradice had seated ; 

(Knowing his Nature was to vice inclynde) 

God gaue rae vnto man, to rule his mynde. 

And as it were, his Gouernour to bee. 

To guide his minde, in Trueth, and Honestie. 

And where thou sayst, that man did sell his soule ; 

That Argument, I quicklie can controule : 

It is a fayned fable, thou doost tell. 

That, which is not his owne, he cannot sell ; 

No man can sell his soule, altho he thought it : 

Mans soule is Christs, for hee hath dearely bought it. 

Therefore vsurping Coitetise, be gone, 

For why, the minde belongs to mee alone. 


182 The Combat betweene 


Alas poore Conscience, how thou art deceav'd ? ^ 

As though of senses, thou wert quite bereaud. 

What wilt thou say (that thinkst thou canst not erre) 

If I can proue my selfe the ancienter ? 

Though into Adams minde, God did infuse thee, 

Before his fall, yet man did neuer vse thee. 

What was it else, but Aurice in Eue, 

(Thinking thereby, in greater Blisse to line) 

That made her taste, of the forbidden fruite ? 

Of her Desier, was not I the roote ? 

Did she not couet ? (tempted by the Deuill) 

The Apple of the Tree, of good and euill ? 

Before ^ man vsed Conscience, she did couet : 

Therefore by her Transgression, here I proue it. 

That Couetousnesse possest the minde of man. 

Before that any Conscience began. 


Euen as a counterfeited precious stone, 

Seemes to bee far more rich, to looke vpon. 

Then doeth the right : But when a man comes neere. 

His basenesse then, doeth euident appeere : 

So Couetise, the Reasons thou dost tell, 

Seeme to be strong, but being weighed well. 


• 1605, « decay'd." « 1605, " Before that man." 

Conscience and Couetousnesse. 183 

They are indeed, but onely meere Illusions, 
And doe in force but very weake Conclusions. 
When as the Lord (fore-knowing his offence) 
Had giuen man a Charge, of Abstinence, 
And to refraine, the fruite of good and ill : 
Man had a Conscience, to obey his will. 
And neuer would be tempted thereunto, 
Vntill the Woeman, shee, did worke man woe. 
And made him breake, the Lords Commaundement, 
Which all Mankinde, did afterward repent : 
So that thou seest, thy Argument is vaine, 
And I am prov'd, the older of the twaine. 


Eond Wretch, it was not Conscience, but feare. 

That made the first man (Adam) to forbeare 

To tast the fruite, of the forbidden Tree, 

Lest, if offending bee were found to bee, 

(According as lehouah saide on hye, 

For his so great Transgression, hee should dye.) 

Eeare curbd his minde, it was not Conscience then, 

(Por Conscience freely, rules the harts of men) 

And is a godly motion of the mynde, 

To euerie vertuous action inclynde, 

And not enforc'd, through feare of Punishment, 

But is to vertue, voluntary bent : 

Then (simple Trul) be packing pressentlie, 

Por in this place, there is no roome for thee. 


184 The Combat betweene 


Aye mee (distressed Wight) what shall I doe ? 
Where shall I rest ? or whither shall I goe ? 
Vnto the rich ? (woes mee) they, doe ahhor me : 
Vnto the poore ? (alas) they, care not for me : 
Vnto to the Olde-man ? hee, hath mee forgot : 
Vnto the Young-man ? yet hee, knowes me not : 
Vnto the Prince ? hee, can dispence with mee : 
Vnto the Magistrate ? that, may not bee : 
Vnto the Court ? for it, I am too base : 
Vnto the Countrey ? there, I haue no place. 
Vnto the Citty ? thence, I am exilde : 
Vnto the Village ? there, I am reuilde : 
Vnto the Barre ? the Lawyer there, is bribed ? 
Vnto the Warre ? there, Cofiscience is derided : 
Vnto the Temple ? there, I am disguised : 
Vnto the Market ? there, I am despised : 
Thus both the young and olde, the rich and poore, 
Against mee (silly Creature) shut their doore. 
Then, sith each one seekes my rebuke and shame. 
He goe againe to Heauen (from whence I came.) 

This saide (me thought) making exceeding mone. 
She went her way, and left the Carle alone. 
Who vaunting of his late-got victorie, 
Aduanc'd himselfe in pompe and Maiestie : 
Much like a Cocke, who hauing kild his foe. 
Brisks vp himselfe, and then begins to crow. 
So Couetisej when Conscience was departed. 


Conscience and Couetousnesse. 185 

Gan to be proud in minde, and hauty harted : 
And in a stately Chayre of state he set him, 
(For Conscience banisht) there was none to let him. 
And being but one entrie, to this Plaine, 
(Whereof as king and Lord, he did remaine) 
Repentance cald, he causd that to be kept. 
Lest Conscience should returne, whilst as he slept : 
Wherefore he causd it, to be wacht and warded 
Both night and Day, and to be strongly guarded : 
To keepe it safe, these three he did intreat, 
Hardnesse of hart, with Falshood and Deceat : 
And if at any time, she chaunc'd to venter, 
Rardnesse of hart, denide her still to enter. 
When Conscience was exilde the minde of Man, 
Then Couetise, his gouernment began. 
This once being scene, what I had seene before, 
(Being onely seene in sleepe) was seene no more ; 
For with the sorrowe, which my soule did take 
At sight hereof, forthwith I did awake. 




In diuers humors, 

Trahitfuaquim^Ht Voluntas, Virgil* 

Printed by G.S. for John laggard, and are to 

be Ibldc at his shoppe ncere Templc-barrcj at the 
Sigtie of the Hand and ftarre. 

15$^ 2. 



Trahit sua quemqiie voluptas. — Virgil. 


Printed by G. S. for lohn laggard, and are to 
be solde at his shoppe neerc Templc-barro, at the 
Signe of the Hand and starre. 



To the learned, and accomplisht Gen- 
tleman, Maister Nicholas Blackleech, of 
Grayes Inne. 

To you, that know the tuch of true Conceat ; 
(Whose many gifts I neede not to repeat) 
I write these Lines : fruits of ynriper yeares ; 
Wherein my Muse no harder censure feares : 
Hoping in gentle Worth, you will them take ; 
Not for the gift but for the giuers sake. 



To his friend Maister R. L. In praise of 
Musique and Poetrie. 

If Musique and sweet Poetrie agree, 
As they must needes (the Sister and the Brother) 
Then must the Loue be great, twixt thee and mee, 
Because thou lou'st the one, and I the other. 

Dowland to thee is deare ; whose heauenly tuch 
Vpon the Lute, doeth rauish humaine sense : 
Spenser to mee ; whose deepe Conceit is such, 
As passing all Conceit, needs no defence. 

Thou lou'st to heare the sweete melodious sound. 
That Fhoebus Lute (the Queene of Musique) makes : 
And I in deepe Delight am chiefly drownd. 
When as himselfe to singing he betakes. 

One God is God of Both (as Poets faigne) 

One Knight loues Both, and Both in thee remaine. 


Against the Dispraysers of Foetrie. 

Chaucer is dead ; and Oower lyes in graue ; 
The Earle of Surrey, long agoe is gone ; 
Sir Philip Sidneis soule, the Heauens haue ; 
George Gascoigne him beforne, was tomb'd in stone. 

Yet, tho their Bodies lye full low in ground, 
(As euery thing must dye, that earst was borne) 
Their lining fame, no Fortune can confound ; 
Nor euer shaU their Labours be forlorne. 

And you, that discommend sweete Poetrie, 
(So that the Subiect of the same be good) 
Here may you see, your fond simplicitie ; 
Sith Kings haue fauord it, of royall Blood. 

The King of Scots (now lining) is a Poet, 

As his LepantOy and his Furies shoe it. 



LITJE Spenser euer, in thy Fairy Queene : 
Whose like (for deepe Conceit) was neuer scene : 
Crownd mayst thou bee, vnto thy more renowne, 
(As King of Poets) with a Lawrell Crowne. 

And Danielli praised for thy sweet-chast Verse : ^ 
Whose Eame is grav'd on Rosamonds blacke Herse. 
Still mayst thou Hue : and still be honored, 
Eor that rare Worke, The White Rose and the Red. 

And Drayton, whose wel- written Tragedies, 
And sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies. 
Thy learned Name, is sequall with the rest ; 
Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest. 

And Shakespeare thou, whose hony-flowing ^ Vaine, 
(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine.' 
Whose Venus^ and whose Lucrece (sweete, and chaste) 
Thy Name in fames immortall Booke haue plac't. 
Liue euer you, at least in Eame Hue euer : 
WeU may the Bodye dye, but Eame dies neuer.^ 


AS it fell vpon a Day, 
In the merrie Month of May, 
Sitting in a pleasant shade, * 
Which a groue of Myrtles made, 
Beastes did leape, and Birds did sing, 
Trees did grow, and Plants did spring : 

' 1605, no capital V. * Ibid, no hyphen and no capital V. 

^ Ibid. " thy praises doth containe." * Ibid, no capital V. 

* Ibid. Finis after this ' Remembrance.' 


An Ode. 191 

Euery thing did banish mone, 

Saue the Nightingale alone. 

Shee (poore Bird) as all forlorne, 

Leand her Breast vp-till a Thome, 

And there sung the dolefulst Ditty, 

That to heare it was great Pitty. 

Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry 

Teru Teru, by and by : 

That to heare her so complaine. 

Scarce I could from Teares refraine : 

Por her griefes so liuely showne. 

Made me thinke vpon mine owne. 

Ah (thought I) thou mournst in vaine ; 

None takes Pitty on thy paine : 

Senslesse Trees, they cannot heere thee ; 

Buthlesse Beares, they will not cheer thee. 

King Fandion, hee is dead : 

All thy friends are lapt in Lead. 

All thy fellow Birds doe singe, 

Carelesse of thy sorrowing. 

Whilst as fickle Portune smilde, 

Thou and I, were both beguilde. 

Euerie one that flatters thee. 

Is no friend in miserie : 

Words are easie, like the winde ; 

PaithfuU friends are hard to finde : 

Euerie man will bee thy friend, 

Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend : 

But if store of Crownes be scant, 

No man will supply thy want. 


192 An Ode. 

If that one be prodigall, 
Bountiful!, they will him call : 
And with such-like flattering, 
Pitty but hee were a King. 
If he bee adict to vice, 
Quickly him, they will intice. 
If to Woemen hee be bent, 
They haue at Commaundement. 
But if Fortune once doe frowne, 
Then farewell his great renowne : 
They that fawnd on him before, 
Vse his company no more. 
Hee that is thy friend indeed, 
Hee will helpe thee in thy neede : 
If thou sorrowe, hee will weepe ; 
If thou wake, hee cannot sleepe : 
Thus of euerie griefe, in hart 
Hee, with thee, doeth beare a Part. 
These are certaine signes, to knowe 
EaithfuU friend, from flatt'ring foe. 


Even as Apelles could not paint Campaspes face aright. 
Because Campaspes Sun-bright eyes did dimme Apelles sight : 
Euen so, amazed at her sight, her sight, all sights excelling, 
Like Nyobe the Painter stoode, her sight his sight expelling : 
Thus Art and Nature did contend, who should the Victor bee. 
Till Art by Nature was supprest, as all the worlde may see. 



THAT England lost, that Learning lov'd, that euery mouth commended, 
That fame did prayse, that Prince did rayse, that Countrey so defended, 
Here lyes the man : lyke to the Swan, who knowing shee shall die, 
Doeth tune her voice vnto the Spheares, and scomes Mortalitie. 
Two worthie Earls his vncles were ; a Lady was his Mother ; 
A Knight his father ; and himselfe a noble Countesse Brother. 
Belov'd, bewaild; aliue, now dead; of all, with Teares for euer ; 
Here lyes Sir Philip Sidneis Corps, whom cruell Death did seuer. 
He liv'd for her, hee dyde for her ; for whom he dyde, he lined : 
graunt (0 God) that wee of her may neuer be de})riued. 


OE here beholde the certaine Ende, of euery lluing wight : 
No Creature is secure from Death, for Death will haue his Right. 
He spareth none : both rich and poore, both young and olde must die ; 
So fraile is flesh, so short is Life, so sure Mortalitie. 


When first the Bodye Hues to Life, the soule first dies to sinne : 

And they that loose this earthly Life, a heauenly Life shall winne, 

If they Hue weU : as well she liv'd, that lyeth Vnder lieere ; 

Whose Vertuous Life to all the Worlde, most plainly did appeere. 

Good to tlie poore, friend to the rich, and foe to no Degree : 

A President of modest Life, and peorelesse Chastitie. 

Who louing more, Who more belov'd, of euerie honest mynde ? 

Who more to Hospitalitie, and Clemencie inclinde 

Then she ? that being buried here, lyes wrapt in Earth below ; 

From whence wee came, to whom wee must, and bee as shee is now, 

A Clodd of Clay : though her pure soule in cndlesso Blisse doeth rest ; 

loving all loy, the Place of Peace, j)re])arod for the blest : 

Where holy Angells sit and sing, before the King of Kings ; 

Not mynding worldly Vanities, but onely heavenly Things. 

Vnto which loy, Vnto which Blisse, Vnto which r hu*o of Pleui^ure, 

God graunt that wee may come at last, t'inioy that heauenly Treasure. 

Which to obtaino, to Hue as shee hath done let us endeuor ; 

That we may Hue witli Clurist himselfe (above) that Hues for ouor. 




Mans life is well compared to a feast, 
Eurnisht with choice of all Varietie : 
To it comes Tyme ; ^ and as a bidden guest 
Hee sets ^ him downe, in Pompe and Maiestie ; 
The three-folde Age ^ of Man, the Waiters bee. 
Then with an * earthen voyder (made of clay) 
Comes Death, & takes the table clean away. 


» 1605, no capital T. 

^ Ibid. ' sits.' 

Ihid. no capital A. 

« Ibid. ' a. 



Note.— From " England's Helicon : " 1600 (Sign H. 1 and 2). Like " As it fell 
vpon a day," as it appears in E. H. " The Vnknowne Sheepheards Complaint " is signed 
Ignoto ; but seeing that " As it fell vpon a day " is known from other sources to be 
Barnefield's, its heading, " Another of the same Sheepheards," enables us to redeem 
" The Vnknowne Sheepheards Complaint " for Barnefield. This is done for the first 
time, but it is clear that the somewhat ill-informed editor of " England's Helicon " 
(John Bodenham ?), though for the moment unaware (or uncertain) of the authorship 
of either, did know that both belonged to the same Author. See our Introduction on 
"As it fell vpon a day." Sonnet XV. of the Sonnets with "Cynthia," &c. (p. 91), 
also appears as "The Shepheards Sonnet" in "England's Helicon," (p. 2), with only 
slight changes, e. g. in line 1 ' My ' for ' Ah,' ' Ganimede ' for ' Ganymede,' ' swaines ' for 
'swains.' His name 'Rich. Barnefield' is added to it. — G. 



My Elocks feede not, my Ewes breede not. 
My Rammes speede not, all is amisse : 
Loue is denying, Faith is defying. 
Harts renying, causer of this. 
All my merry liggs are quite forgot, 
All my Ladies loue is lost God wot. 
"Where her faith was firmely fixt in loue. 
There a nay is plac'd without remoue. 

One silly crosse, wrought all my losse, 

O frowning Fortune, cursed fickle Dame : 

For now I see, inconstancie 

More in women then in men remaine. 

In black mourne I, all feares scorne I, 

Loue hath forlorne me, lining in thrall : 

Hart is bleeding, all helpe needing, 

O cruell speeding, frauglited with gall. 

My Sheepheards pipe can sound no deale. 

My Weathers bell rings dolefull knell. 

My curtaile dogge that wont to haue plaide, 

Playes not at all, but seemes afraide. 
With sighs so deepe, procures to weepe, 
In howling-wise, to see my dolefull plight : 
How sighs resound, through hartlesse ground, 
Like a thousand vanquish 'd men in bloody fight. 

Cleare Wells spring not, sweet birds sing not, 

Greene plants bring not foorth their die : 

Heards stand weeping, Flocks all sleeping, 

Nimphs back peeping fearcfuUy. 

All our pleasure knowne to vs poore Swaines, 

All our merry meeting on the Plaines. 

All our euening sports from vs are fled, 

All our loue is lost, for Loue is dead. 
Farewell sweete Loue, thy like nere was. 
For sweete content, the cause of all my moane : 
Poore Coridon must Hue alone, 
Other helpo for him, I see that there is none. 

l?ie Arras of BarnfiMd/f 
From. tht/Harldati MS. TMl 

From' the^ Ishanv MS. Lamport Ectllj,Northamptorv. 


C\^ f<nr^ryyyj ^iPt^^vtyt*- ^^ptxir /*'^^/WW<^- 
^^tf- ^^\>offuvi^ /^/iW4,/^ ^/>^^}^tHoi> 

Morwi^raMi' fronv Marn/i eld's Will cd LijdifieJd. 



Note. — The Manuscript, of which there follows for the first time, an exact 
reproduction, belongs to Sir Charles H. Isham, bart., of Lamport Hall, Northampton. 
It is a small paper book of eighteen leaves within a vellum skin, which seems a leaf 
of a Latin treatise. There is one leaf blank, and on the verso of the next the Latin 
lines on Tarquin and Lucrece begin; and so onward on other ten leaves — the last on 
one side only. The remainder is blank. Mr. A. J. Horwood is uncharacteristicall}^ 
inaccurate in his description of the MS. as Richard Barnfield's autograph is not at the 
end of the MS. but on page 17, in signing the verse-dedication to Sir John Spencer. 
See our Introduction on what belongs and does not (probably) belong to Barnefield. — G. 

Tarquinius viso Lucretiae gestu, haec secum 

absens reuoluit. 
Sic sedit, sic culta fuit : sic stamina mouit : 

Neglectae coUo sic iacuere comae, 
Has habuit vultus, haec illi verba fuerunt : 

Hie color, haec facies : hie decor oris erat. 



To thy shrifte (greate chaplen of the familie of loue) corns y' 
passionat shephard of the westerne playnes to confes his faultes 
& to offer sacrifice for his offences. I haue loud, a foole y' I was & 
haue obtained, fy blab y* I tell but trustinge to thy secresy let 
me open that thinge y' w'tting wherof is the greateste contente in 
loue. when in the blominge of my youth & in the florishinge time 
of the yere I first tooke vpo me y' charge of a shepherd, Phillis 
my fath's neighbo'' Daughter draue likewise her fath" flocke. at 
noone time as it often happens a monge vs shepherds I to a 
void the heate of the sonne vsed to w*hdraw my self to a foutaine 
springinge in he"^ sheepgate where beinge my custome to mcete her 
as on[e] day vnder y" couerlet of a rocke whre gazing on y* cristall 
streame, in the watry glas, she did see the shadowe of Bellin my 
rame how he was mouted one the yeaw to p'forme the duty of 
marra*'g. She asked me what the rame did. I said he got on the 
yeaws backe to discrie if on the the {sic) hedge were any better food 
(& holy preist let me confesse my falte) I then spake as I thought 
buty* wily Phillis p'cevying my simplicity turnes her head and smiles 

2d 2 

204 The Shepherdes Confession. 

as if her countenance should say what a foole is this. But longe 
she had not remaynd thus when on the leaues of a marygolde she 
saw a busy bee gathring hony. Willie saith shee for so am I cald, 
shall I be thy bee & sucke tliy hony of thy lips? By the 
cleerenes of her posicons I hauinge my vnderstandinge now erected 
replied yee Phillis so y* like y* marigold y" wilt only to my bright 
beames ly open. O the crafte of women, how putly vpon my 
wordes did shee frow^ne & turne a way. I affeard of her displeasure 
said sweet Phil why looke yo" from me ? haue I offended. Dere 
then turne those eys nay fix them vpon me soe shall the flames thereof 
in burninge me be iust punishers of mine offence. W"" y* I wold 
haue initated the gras where on we lay by clasping her in my armes 
but she t'ninge aside, espies my iuory pipe, and as women delight in 
faire thinges & yet through theire natures couetousnes doe rather 

The Shepherdes Confession. 205 

take then giue, so now to make p'fit of her anger, she told me by no 
meanes I shoud enter acquaintance againe vnles franckly and freely 
I would giue her my white pipe. I made answer y' giue it I could 
not but if she would lay the browne mazer her mother gaue her to 
my whistle Vpon any wager I would try the venter, wee a greed 
& y* bargaine was who in runinge should firste come to the bush 
at y' bottom of the hill, he should haue the prize, we set forwarde 
& step for step, stroke for stroke she kept w*h me nay was often 
times before me till drawinge neere y* marke she begane to 
fainte & speechles fell downe. I whose mind was more on 
takingc her vp then on winninge the wager imployd my strength 
to y* thrusting of her vp againe. This kindnes of mine in shewinge, 
I neglected my profit in compariso of her suer footing did so deeply 
p'ce [= pierce] her as shee thought it not enough to giue me y' 
curious wrought mazer confessinge it to be mine as wone by 

206 The Shepherdes Confession. 

maine speedines but w'h all shee pnted it me replenished w'h 
a most reviving liquo'. I not to seeme defectiue in curteous 
bounty gaue her ray pipe, she refusd the p'p'ty [= property] & 
only craued y^ vse of it to chere vp her spirites when she was 
in her melancholy dups. Phi: said I if you returne me my 
pipe yet it is yo's at commaund and as for yo"^ mazer since it 
is houshold stuf & y* I am no huswif I p"^ thee take it home 
againe but sweet Phi keepe it neatly, only I desire you woldst 

bringt a feild adayes, y* when through heat I shall grow thirsty 
w*h the liquo' thereof I may alay my drought. Thus for y* time 

we p'ted & often since to y' high delightfuU quenchinge of my 

most furious flames out of y* ioUy polished mazor haue I caroused. 

But here is my misfortune, for this offence I come now to aske 

p'done, my fair tressed Ph amonge other of her delightes kept 

shut vp in a cage a bird called a wagtaile. him she fed 

The Shepherdes Confession. 207 

w% her owne hand, him she stroked, him she plaid w»hall. I 
cominge on a time to this cage & pittying to see y' poore foule in 
captiuitie w'''' was free by the laws of kind vnpent the cage dore & 
out flue the bird. Ph : findinge her play fellow gone & y* through 
my falte, O hils O downs into what arage was shee driuen. I was 
the man y* invied her content, twas I y* had bereaud her of her 
morninges thought, he' repose at euen, her make [=mate] by day 
and he' valiant g\iid by night, so y* transported w*h this tempestuos 
passion away she flinges from me & neu' sine cold I regaine her 
fauo'. how often sine haue I sued for grace by crowninge those 
lams w*h garlandes w*'' I knew to be her fauorites. how often haue 
I brought her a robbin redbreste & told h' y* although he be sulle 
[:=sullen] & sollitary, yet is he a most kind & faithfuU bird, how 
often haue I p'sented her y* nighting gale w**" this commend'con 
y* he vseth to sleepe w**" a pricke at his breste, and yet she 
scornes my guiftes & w"" despitfull thretninge makes answer 
to my passionat intreatinges y* vnles I find her lady bird againe 

208 The Shepherdes Confession. 

I must neu' veter to come in her p'nc. I haue so wandred the 
woodes & made so many a tree brachles for y^ search of this 
wagtaile as now beinge not able to wag any further, I am com vnto 
thy shrine sine she will not here me, to confes my greuos fault & 
offer sacrifice for y* sinne. If my oblacon be of force to moue thy 
spirit, to fore tell me I shall recou' my La : bird againe who shalbe 
more bounde to thy holynes then thy poore shephard Willie ? But 
if my offence haue not merite[d] such fauo' as to say y* truth what 
can he deserue in y' sight of loue, who hath wilfully lost his wagtaile 
yet accept this sacrifice w"*" I bringe vnto thee. This viall w"' I 
offer is a viall of teares w"*" I haue wept for my los w'*" eydew being 
but small in quantity because y* glas is but little & britel, may as 
a misticale relik be kept in thy temple to shew maidens should not 
greue to much for the los of so brikle athinge as is virgins maiden 
head. Holy father I haue cofesse[d] all I attend thine absolution. 


The Isham MS. 209 

Euery knight of y* order of y* Snuffe shall be well prouided in 
tearmes concerninge y* candle, as hauinge occasi5 to bid one light 
y' candle he shall say incense y' candle, for puttinge him in to y* 
candle sticke, aduance him into his throwne, for snuffing of y' 
candle he shall say reforme y' candle, for takeinge away y* theefe, 
assiste y' candle, for fastninge him into y' socket establish y' candle, 
for stickinge of flowers adorne y' candle ; and if he be taken a way 
by ratts or mice, he shall say, he is taken prisoner, if he be gnawne 
he shall say he is indented. 


210 The Isham MS. 

My prime of youth is but a froste of cares. 

My feaste of Joy is but a dish of paine. 
My cropp of corne is but a feild of tares. 

and all my good is but vayne hope of gayne 
The day is paste and yet I saw no sonne 

And now I Hue and now my life is donne 
My tale was harde, and yet it was not told 

my frute is falne, and yet my leaues are greene 
My youth is spent and yet I am not old. 

I saw y* world and yet I was not seene 
My thread is cut, and yet it is not sponne 

And now I liue and now my lief is donne. 
I sought my death and found it in my wombe. 
I lookt for life and saw it was a shade. 

The Isham MS. 211 

I trod y* yearth and knewe it was my tombe 

Ajid now I die, and now I was but made 
My glasse is full and now my glasse is runne 
And now I liue and now my lief is donne. 


Thy prime of youth is frozen w*^ thy f aultes 

Thy feaste of Joy is finisht w"' thy fall. 
Thy cropp of come is tares a vayling naughtes 

Thy good god knowes thy hope, thy happ and all. 
Short were thy daies and shadow was thy sonne 

T' obscure thy light vnluckely begunne. 
Time trieth truth and truth, hath treason tript 

Thy faith bare fruite, as thou hadste faithlesse beene. 

2 E 2 

212 The Isham MS. 

Thine ill spent youth, thyne after yeares haue impte. 

and god y* sawe thee, hath p'^serud our Queene 
Her thride still holdes thine perisht thowth vnspune. 

And she shall Hue when trayters lines are donne. 
Thou soughtst thy death, and found it in deserte 

Thou lookst for lief yet lewdly forcd it fade 
Thou trodst the earth and now in earth thou arte 

As men may wish y" neu'^ hadst bin made 
Thy glory and thy glasse are tymeles runne 

And this (0 Tuchbourne) hath thy Treason donne. 


The Isham MS. 213 



The double V, is dowble woe 
The I, is nought but ielosie 
The F, is fawninge flatterie 
The E is nought but enmitie. 
Thus V w*' I, w*' f , w*' E : 
Brings nothinge els but miserie. 


Is double V such double woe 
Speake of no more then that you knowe. 
Tis weale, tis wealth, and nothing soe 
I, Joye is, not iealosie. 

214 The Isham MS. 

P fauor is, not flattery. 

E is true loues eternytie. 
Thus, V, w*" I, w**- P, w*" E 
well consterd is felicitie. 


To the right Wor" Sir John Spenser Knighte 

Alderman of the honnorable Citty of 
London and lorde treasurer of Lady pecunia. 

llie Isham MS. 215 

Led by the swifte reporte of winged fame, 

with golden trumpet soundinge forth your name, 
To you I dedicate this merry Muse 

And for my Patron I your fauor chuse. 
She is a woman shee muste be respected 

Shee is a Queene she muste not be reiected 
This is the shaddowe you the substance haue 

Which substance no we this shaddowe seemes to craue. 

Richard Barnfild. 


216 The Isham MS. 

There is a thinge y* much is vsd 
tis cauUed loue, by men abusd : 
they write and sigh and sweare they die 
when all is done they know they lie, 
but when they sweare by faith & troth 
ile sweare they care not for an othe. 

They firste muste haue a mistres faire 
and then a fauor for to weare 
and then they go to flattries skoole 
and call her wise they knowe a foole 
but let them sweare by faith and troth 
ile sweare they care not for an othe. 

It is a practise in this age 
to lay theire creditts vnto gage, 
by wit by vowes by neate attire 
to conquer that they most desire 

but let them sweare by faith and troth 
ile sweare they care not for an othe. 


The Isham MS. 217 


Weepe with mee all yee that reade, 

this little storie, 
And knowe for whome these t^eares you shedd 

deaths selfe is sorrie, 
It was a childe that so did thriue, 

in grace and feature, 
That heauen and nature seemde to striue, 

whoe owede the creature, 
Yeeres he numbred scarce thirteene 

when the destenies tumd cruell 
Yet three paste zodiacks he had bine 

our stages Juell 


218 The Isham MS. 

And what wee nowe doe mone 

he plaide olde men soe duelie, 
The destinies thought him to be one, 

he faind soe truelie, 
And in that error they consented, 

to his death, 
But vewinge him since they haue repented 

and haue sought to giue newe birth 
in charmes to steepe him : 
But beinge soe much to good for earth, 

heauen vowes to keepe him. 


The Isham MS. 219 

A lustie nutt browne wenche scant woorth y* naminge 

went downe a staler bearinge a candle flaming : 
A swagering gallant comming her t'encounter 

att first approache couragiously would mount her : 
Shee strongly made resistaunce and did sweare 

she would bume him by that candle she did beare : 
Hee blew y* candle out to breake hir vowe 

she kept her promise still, immagine how. 


220 The Isham MS. 

Sweete hart to deale trewly I loue thee not much 
disdaininge to serue thee thy kindnes is such ; 

For why thy demeanor commendeth thee not 
thy bewty vnpleasing the better my lott : 

Then sweete I assure you ile loue you not more, 
refusinge to loue you which loued you before. 




Notice. — It is thought well to call attention to certain Shakesperean parallels and 
words that are pointed out in the following Notes and Illustrations, viz. : The Affectionate 
Shepheard, 11. 1-2; St. i.-ii.; St. iv. 1. 3; St. viii. 1. 4; St. xi. 1. 5; St. xviii. 1. 2; St. 
XXII. 1. 5; St. XXVIII. 1. 3; St. xxx. 1. 4; St. xxxv. 11. 5-6; The Second Darfs Lamen- 
tation, St. I. 1. 4; St. III. 1. 2; St. xiii. 1. 3; St. xvi. 1. 1; St. xviii. 1. 3; St. xxiii. 
1. 4; St. XL. 1. 2; The Shepheard'' s Content, St. xxxvii. 1. 3; Cynthia, St. ii. 1. 3; St. 
III. 1. 6; Sonnet x. ; Cassandra, page 108, St. ii. 11. 1-2; ihid. page 111, St. i.; ibid. 
page 118, St. I.; ibid, page 125, St. in. 11. 1-2; ibid, page 127, St. ii.; The Encomion 
on Lady Pecunia, page 144, St. in. 1, 2. In all these places something will be found 
worth-while. G. 


/. The Affectionate Shepheard. 

Verse-dedication to the Lady Penelope Ritch (Rich), the Stella of Sir PhiUp Sidney's 
*' Astrophel and Stella," the brilliant and unfortunate sister of the equally brilliant 
and unfortunate Robert Earl of Essex. 

Lines 1-2, " Angeliqne eyes 

Are vestall Candles of sweet Beauties Treasure." 
Cf. Shakespeare: "those gold candles fixed in heaven's air," 

(Sonnet xxi. 12) 
Read the whole Sonnet, though it is only incidentally that it 
applies to Barnfield. See also " The Second Day's Lamen- 
tation," St, XXV. 1, 2, *• Thine eyes for candles'' 
Line 5, " toy " = trifle. 

Second Title (p, 8), The Teares, &c. Thomas "Watson's " Teares of Fancie or Loue 
Disdained " (1593) probably suggested this secondary title. 

The Poem. 

St. i.-n. On the " conceit " of the love of a " boy " by a man, see the 

Epistle to Cynthia. This is one of various examples that go 
to explain the form of some of Shakespeare's sonnets, on 
which I hope to write fully and sstisfyingly in a Life of 
Shakespeare's Southampton, being prepared. Meantime be 
it noted that like the opening of Venus and Adonis, the 
Affectionate Shepheard seems founded on the proverbial 
saying referred to by Shakespeare : " Like a red mom that 
ever yet bctokcn'd wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, 
sorrow to Shepherds" (Lines 453-455). Thus l)Oth indicate 
by their first words the tragic or moumful nature of the 
song or poem. 


224 Notes and Illustrations. 

St. I. line 6, ''7 came, I saw:" reminiscence of Caesar's " Veni, vidi, [vici.]" 

„ II. ,, 2, " trust " = trussed, i. e. tied. 

„ II. „ 4, " enamels : " For rhyme's sake with ' tramels,' (line 2) the verb 

singular is made to agree with the first nominative ' pearle.' 

„ III. ,, 1, " alablaster " == alabaster. So too the name of Dr. Alabaster 

is spelled contemporaneously. 

„ III. „ 3,'^blin:" A variant form of *' Zm " = to cease. Halliwell 

adduces this from Wright's Political Songs (p. 212), " Mon 
that loveth falsnesse and nule never blyne^ So Spenser also: 
" For nathemore for that spectacle bad 
Did th' other two their cruell vengeance 5/ira." 

(F. Q. b. 3, c. 5, 22, 11. 6-7.) 

„ IV. „ 3, " Elues " = elvish, as in Shakespeare, " elvish marked," i. e. 

disfigured by fairies ? Or query = young cattle, as in Tusser 
— used playfully in either case. 

„ IV. „ 5, Read ' of her [he] was ' or * of her was [he].' 

„ IV. „ 6, "proued " == tried. 

„ V. „ 1, " too " = to. On this entire stanza it may be remarked that 

while of course Lady Rich was not Guendolen, it is yet 
possible that the veiled allusion may have been to the loves 
of Sydney and Lady Rich. It is difficult to account for 
the stanza otherwise, as it has no bearing on the story. 

„ VI. „ 1, Punctuate "hapned; " 

„ VII. „ 6, " waft " = wafted. The * ed ' or ' t ' of the past participle of 

verbs in ' t ' was not unfrequently elided or rejected. 

„ vni. „ 4, " amorous " = full of love, love-charged. So Shakespeare : 
"his amorous spoil" (Compl. 1. 154); "my amorous tale" 
(Much Ado about Nothing, i. 1). 

„ XI. ,, 5, " 7nore hard than Adamant or Steele." So Barnabe Barnes in 

Elegie xx. line 34 (Parthenophil and Parthenophe). So 
Shakespeare (Mids. N. Dream, ii. 2): 

" You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant." 

„ XIV. „ 3, " curse and ban ;" These synonyms are used for emphasis of 
repetition, which was a common contemporary practice in 
English. In general one word is a synonym or paronyme of 
the other, but derived from a diff"erent language, " Chop and 
change " is another example. Ban = to curse. 

„ XV. „ 2, ^' sugred:" frequently. It is often used by Sydney. 









Notes and Illustrations. 225 

line 4, see II. xxv. 

„ 3. The constniction is, Then he (That now sight, i.e. the 

writer's sight) and I, &c. 
„ 1, " wrests " = wrists. Note the spelling. 

„ 2, '' crownets ^^ = coronets. So in Shakespeare, e.g. "their 
crownets regal" (Troilus and Cre&s. prol. line 6); "in his 
livery walked crowns and crownets " (Antony and Cleop. v. 2). 
But in the text the meaning is rather * bracelets.' 
„ XIX. „ 4, " play the kunts-vp : " We take the following from Halliwell : 
" Mr. Collier has printed a very curious song, from which it 
appears that the hunts-up was known as early as 28 Henry 
VIII. The following extract will show the nature of it : 
" The hunt is up, the hunt is up, &c. 
The Masters of Art and Doctors of Divinity 
Have brought this name out of good unity. 
Three noblemen have this to stay,— 
My lord of Norfolk, Lord of Surrey, 
And my Lord of Shrewsbury, 

The Duke of Suffolk might have made England merry." 
Ibid. „ 5, *'coofe" = cot. Cf. St. xxix. line 2, of "The Shepheard's Content." 

St. XX. „ 5, " well:" = a welling spring. 

„ XXI. „ 6, " eughes " = yews. 

„ XXII. „ b,"Ladon:" A river in Arcadia. — Halliwell. 
„ XXII. ,, 5, " noyse" = concert of sweet sounds, as in a " noise of musicians." 
This was its earlier and later sense, t. e. of a set or company of 
musicians, e. g. Sneak's noise ( Shakespeare) or Rupert's noise 
meant Sneak's or Rupert's set of players or band. Similarly 
George Herbert, in 106. The Familie : line 1 : 
" What doth this noise of thoughts within my heart 
As if they had a part ? " 
and again, 144. Aaron: line 8, " s noise of passions ringing 
me for dead" (Herbert's Works, in P. W. L. and in The 
Aldine Poets.) 
„ xxiii. „ 6, "mt71-«" = a white delicate bait; but used probably by con- 
straint for a rhyme with " silko ; " albeit it may be remembered 
that (milk) white and bright baits are very attractive to some 
fish. 'Abide' (line 8) is another word used in stress of rhyme. 
„ XXIV. „ 6, " Syrinx : " An Arcadian nymph who, flying from Pan, wu 


Notes and Illustrations. 

turned into a reed, which was afterwards made into a pipe by 
the pursuer. — Halliwell. 
St. XXV. line 3, " ceruices : " The sorb apple, of which Parkinson reckons four 
kinds, one being the red chesse apple or English wild service. 
*' Chesse " was probably another provincial name for it. 
„ XXVI. „ 2, " brauer trees " = handsomer or finer. 
„ XXVII. „ 2-3, " light." Cf. Legend of Cassandra for like playing on 

" light " (p. 125, St. ii. line 6). 
,, XXVIII. „ S, "prickets:" Bucks of the second year. — Halliwell. Perhaps 
" haunt " is a misprint for " hunt," although the former gives a 
good meaning = follow importunately. As Shakespeare, " I 
do haunt thee in the battle thus " (1 Henry IV. v. 3) and 
" did haunt you in the field" (Troilus and Cressida, iv. 1). 
„ XXIX. „ 2, ^'garden plot." So Tusser and Herbert frequently: = a space 

separated for a garden. 
„ XXX. „ 3, " Spyke " = Lavender. — Halliwell. But *' lavender " has been 
already named in a previous stanza (line 6). Perhaps " of 
another kind" as in The Second Day's Lament. St. vii. of the 
" pidgeons." 
Ibid. „ 4, ^'■The scarlet-dyed carnation bleeding yet" The idea of a bleeding 

flower gives additional grace to one of the most beautiful 
passages in Shakespeare: 

" Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell; 
It fell upon a little western flower, 
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound." 

Halliwell [Mids. N. Dr. ii. 2.] 
Ibid. „ 5, '• sauery" a still used vegetable. 

Ibid. „ 5, " mai'gerum " = marjoram. 

Ibid. „ 6, '■^ good for the blinde: " According to Gerard, p. 537, " eiebright 

stamped and laid upon the eies, or the juice thereof, mixed 
with white wine, and dropped into the eies, or the destilled 
water, taketh awaie the darknesse and dimnesse of the eies, 
and cleereth the sight." — Halliwell. 
St. XXXI. „ 4:, '^ flour cald sops-in-wine." Pinks. — Halliwell. Sic, but 

" pinks " have been already named in line 1. 
Ibid. „ 5,"bootes." The marsh marigold. According to Gerard, p. 671, 

this name for the plant was current only " in Cheshire and 
those parts." — Halliwell. 

Notes and Illustrations. 227 

St. xxxiii. line 2, *^ti/ce'" = entice. In Marlowe, frequently. 
„ XXXV. „ 5, 6, " I loue thee for thy gifts, she for hir pleasure ; 
I for thy Vertue, she for Beauties treasure." 
Cf. Shakespeare's 20th Sonnet: 

" since she pick'd thee out for women's pleasure, 

Mine be thy love, and thy loves use their treasure." 
„ XXXVII. „ 1, An error here. Transpose and read " But I that lou'd." Cf. 

St. XXXVI. line 5, " Then She." 
Ibid. „ 4, "their beauties baning : " Used either substantively = beauties' 

baning, with the baning of their beauties — and this might 
then represent banning (metri gr.) ; or = that now behold 
me baning (or banning) me with their beauties. Line 5, 
" Thy bane" i. e. thy ban or curse, (metaphorically) my bale, 
t. e. woe, or that cause my woe. 

Th« Second Dayes Lamentation : 

St. I. line 4, '^ the christall fmintaines:" "Opening on Neptune with fair 

blessed beams." Mids. N. Dream, iii. 2. — Halliwell. 
„ II. ,, 5, 6, Cf. The Isham MS. in Answer to Tychbome (pp. 211-12) — 

which is a confirmation of Bamfield's authorship of it. 
„ III. „ 2, " Receauing cisternes,'" ^c. Cf. Lucrece — Lucrece and maid 

weeping " Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling" (line 1234). 
„ VI. „ 3, Cf. A Remembrance of Some English Poets. 

„ VII, „ 3, "ruff-footed" = hatheredlega. 

„ VIII. „ 2, " boult " = a short blunt-topped arrow. 
„ IX. „ 1, "springes " = snares : a dissyllable. 

Ibid. „ if"grype:" A griffin. — Halliwell. ^Sic. but query * a vulture'? 

Cf. Humfrey Giff'ord's " Posie : " 

** Whei:e scorched harts dispaire and anguish gnaw, 
Lyke greedy Gripes, that peck Prometheus' maw." 

(Of the vncontented estate of Loners.) 
Ibid. „ 5, " sparrow calls " = whistles to imitate their " call," and so 

entrap the birds. 
St. X. „ 3, " sweake : " query ♦ bill-hook ? ' Both • prop ' and * sweake ' seem 

to refer to things used in snaring. 
Ibid. „ 4, " Cyparissus selfe: " a boy of Cea, a son of Telephus, beloved of 

Apollo and Zcphyrus or Silvanus. Having by misadventure 
killed a favourite stag, he was overwhelmed with grief and 


Notes and Illustrations. 

was metamorphosed into a cypress. — (Ovid. Met. x. 120, &c.) 
Probably this line was meant to be within ( ). 
St. X. line 5, " oozels " = blackbirds. Cf. St. xxxix. line 5. 

,, XI. ,, 1, " hare-pypes " = snares for catching hares. 

Ihid. „ 1, " a muset hole " == a hole through which a hare goes to escape 

when hunted. 
Ibid. „ 4, " splent " = a flat thin sliver of wood. 

Ibid. „ 4, " lythe : " == soft. The word, like pliant or pliable, supposes a 

certain amount of rigidity and resiliency. 
St. XII. „ 6, "Bunnell:" a dried hemp-stalk. Cumb. (Wright). Was it 

infused as tea? 
Ibid. „ 5, ^^ perry : " the fermented juice of pears, as cyder from 

St. XIII. „ 1, read "pleasant-noted " certainly. 
„ XIII. ,, 3, " white as whale : " i'. c. as whale-bone. 

" This is the flower that smiles on eueryone 
That show his teeth as white as whales bone." 

Love's Labour's Lost, v. 2. 
„ XIV. „ 1, " lardarie" = a larder." 
Ibid. „ 2, " crachnelV = a well-browned or crisp cake: but it seems to 

be used for any food well browned. 
Ibid. „ 3, " ill-pleasing eye " = eye ill or not willing to be pleased or 

difficult to please. Or, qu. ' pleasing ill ' ? 
Ibid. „ 5, " coate " = the simple coat of a shepheard. 

St. XVI. „ 1, " a race of ginger." Cf. Shakespeare in Winter's Tale (iv. 2), 

" a race or two of ginger." 
„ xviii. „ 3, " mend my misse." Does this not elucidate Venus and Adonis, 

line 53 " blames her miss " ? (= misbehaviour ?). 
„ XIX. „ 2, " girdle-steed" i. e. girdle-place, viz. the waist. So home-stead 

or steed. 
„ XXI. „ 3, " odiOMs" = hateful or ofi'ensive, as "comparisons are odious." 
„ XXII. „ 3, " cZoyc? ;" strange use of the word. Cf. Ivi. Humfry Gifford 
in his Fosie of Gillqflowers (1580) also has it thus : — 
" Haue not thy head so cloyd with worldly cares " {A 
Lesson for all estates: our edition, p. 96). 
„ xxiii. „ 4, " my louely faire : " compare A Mids. N. Dream, i. 1. 

" O, happy fair ! 

Your eyes are lode-stars." — Halliwbll. 

Notes and Illustrations. 


St. XXVI 1!. line 

„ XXVIII. „ 

»» XXIX. „ 

„ XXXVI. „ 

„ XL. „ 

Ibid. „ 

Ibid. „ 

Ibid. „ 


St. XLI. 


„ XLIV. „ 

„ XLV. „ 

Ibid. „ 

„ XLVIII. „ 


Ibid. ,, 

1, " light," i. e. lighted. 

6, *' Lest climing high thou catch too great a fait." A reminiscence 
of the well-known anecdote of Elizabeth and Raleigh. 

4, " 'steeme " = esteem. 

6, ^* Fame is toombles:" See Complaint of Chastitie, St. ix. 
line 7 (p. 55). 

2, "/c/Z " = skin. So Shakespeare : " their fells, you know, art- 

greasy." (As You Like It, iii. 2). 

3, " weather " = wether, sheep. 

5, "fautors," abettors. 

6, "«^sA:" soft, delicate. See Notes and Queries (4th Series). 

The meaning is, white kine are * nesh ' or delicate, black are 
strong : black coney skins dear, grey ones cheap. 
6, " cheap alway " = altogether or very cheap. 

4, ** inuented " =^ discovered (Latin), as the Invention of the 


2, " dammasin "' = damson (plum) ; in line 3 " Bullas " = 

bullace (plums). Wheaton = wheat-plum : a variety. 

(Bailey, s. v.) 
1, 3, ** beaver: " Cf. Juvenal, xii. 34 : 

" imitatus, castora, qui se 

Eunuchum ipse facit, cupiens evadere, damno 
Testiculorum. — Halliwell. 

Humfrey Gifford in his " Posie of Gillowflowers" (1580) has 

the same odd illustration. See our edition and relative note. 
1 , " crimbling " = crumbling. To " crimme "is to ' crumbi*' ' 


1 , ^^ Diamonds : " alluding to the more rare and therefore more 

costly dark or coloured or black tliauKiuds. Similarly the 
dark grey pearl (line 5) is the more sought for: an<l this 
is probably the meaning. 

3, " watchet : " pale azure blue. Cf. a fall Note in Uarnalx^ 

Barnes (page 224 : our edition). 

2, " dare " = dace ? 

4, ^'tittle they nourish:" i.e. they 611 nature and add tt) hor 

varieties but that is nearly all, they " nourish little," &c. 

5, '* loach." Made famous in our generation by Blockmuro in his 

" Loma Doono " (c. vii.) 


230 Notes and Illustrations. 

St. Lii. line 3, " white " = a white hypocritical covering for " black Vjcc's 

Pillar : " so a " whited sepulchre." 
„ LV. „ 4, " clened in their birth " = in baptism. 

„ Lvi. „ 4, "c%'cZ; " Cf. St. XXII. 

„ Lix. This and succeeding Stanzas recall George Herbert's " Church 

Porch." See our Introduction § 2. 
„ Lx. „ 5, Punctuate " words ; ". So in St. lxi. line 3, " dayes ; " : St. 

Lxiii. line 1, "thee:" and line 2, "bearing:" and St. lxiv. 

» spilt : ". 
„ Lxv. „ 3, Punctuate " good," : The sense is, Whose bad [will end] thy 

good. Other corrections of punctuation are easily seen, but 

this and others noted conceal the meaning. 
Ibid, ,, 4, " knife." Halliwell, copying a MS. correction, prints •' swords." 

But the plural ' swords ' is scarcely admissible. It is either 

an oversight or licence of the Poet himself. 
„ Lxvi. „ 2, '^ glauer" == to Matter. 
„ Lxvii. ,, G, " True Age is reuerend worship to thy graue " = True old age 

is that which receives the reverend worship of all up to the 

time of death. 
„ Lxix. „ 1, " /ecrre" = lore. 
„ Lxxii. ,, 1, " ?«?ss6 " = amiss. 
„ Lxxiii. „ 5, " cow^e" = farewell (French). But if so, how did he manage 

to proceed homeward " by the Moon shine light " when 

Cynthia had taken ' conge ' of the sable Night ? " 

The Shepheards Content, 4'C. It may be noted that H. C. in his " Piers Plaines " 

(1595) commends this poem highly. See Collier's Bibl. Ace. ii. 165. 

St. II. line 6-7, "wieane:" a play on the music term, as in the " Encomion " 

on " counter." (Page 138, St. i.-ii.) 

„ IV. „ 4, '« dumpe.'' Dr. William Loe in his " Songs of Sion " (1620) 

often uses the word. See our edition in Miscellanies of the 
Fuller Worthies' Library. Punctuate * dumpe ; ' : and in 
line 5, * foes,'. 
„ VII. „ 4, ^' knaps" = hits. So Barnabe Barnes in his Divine Centurie, 

Sonnet lxxiii. line 10. 

Ibid. „ 5, "gates" = ways or paths (Northern); in Scotland still com- 

monly used = sheep-walks. 

St. \(ii. ,, 1, "fawn's": error for 'fawns' or 'fawnes.' 

Notes and Illustrations. 


„ XI, 
„ XII. 
„ XIII. 

St. viii. line 3, " glauer " = to flatter, as before. 

Ibid. „ 4, " deck " = pack of cards. 

St IX. „ 3, Appears to mean, That they do not merely flatteringly praise his 

doings but love him and his acts make them their own 
desire. • Wealth ' = weal, as in Litany, &c. and Cf. I. 
xxxviii. line 6. 

5, '^Nothing : " qu. Nothing's ; punctuate, in line 6, ' varietie,'. 

6, ^^ Factors " = Agents. 
\,^^ Merchant-venturer." There was a Company known by the 

name of " The Merchant Venturers " without other desig- 
nation, and there were the Merchant-adventurers of Virginia 
Bermuda, &c., later. Here the phrase is general for any 
merchant-venturiniy ship in trade. 
4, " stay " = supports. 

" Sydney." See Introduction on the celebration of Sir Philip 
Sidney and Thomas "Watson. 

6, " ohiect " = stroke ? 

4, " beares the bace " = bass. 

5, " banged" = beaten about (Northern). 
5, *' rampiche " = Partially decayed. A term generally applied 

to a tree which begins to decay at the top through age. 
— Halliwell. [Such an one as Swift looked at fore- 

2, " girlonds " = garlands. 

2, " coate " = cot. Cf. The Affectionate Shepheard, St. xix. 
line 5. Line 4, qu. ' a' delete? 

5, " chop or change " = barter. Cf. note on repetitions on A. S. 
St. XIV line 3. 

7, •' cracknell." Cf. The Second Day's Lamentation, and relative 
note, St. xiv. line 2. 

See our Introduction, as before, on this. 
7, " 7'ue" i. e. pity the wrong done to me by Ganimcde. 
1, "7)^/c" = head or point (as of an arrow), from Latin ;)i/urn. 
See our Bamabe Barnes (p. 22G). 
Ibid. „ G, "/ haue more" i. e. I have more under that supposition «= I will 

„ xxxvii. „ 3, *' (Cruell, vnkind) and wilt thou leaue me so." Compare Mids. 
N. Dream, ill. 2, "why unkindly didst thou leave me so?" 




















„ XXVIII. „ 

„ XXIX. „ 

Ibid. „ 

Ibid. „ 


it XXXV. ,, 

„ XXXVI. „ 

232 Notes and Illustrations. 

Sonnet. Page 51, line 4, ^' fresh:" See our Introduction on Mr. Collier's correction of 
this line. =• freshet, or sudden coming of Winter. 

The Complaint of Chastitie Michel Drayton (spelled Drey ton). It seems 

impossible at this day to determine what is true and what false in the stories 
about Maude or Matilda Fitzwalter. Dugdale, who doubtless investigated the 
subject thoroughly, came to no settled conclusion, but simply said, " It is by some 
thus 7'eported," viz. " that this Robert Fitzwalter having a very beautiful daughter 
called Maude residing at Dunmow, the King frequently solicited her chastity, but, 
never prevailing, grew so enraged that he caused her to be privately poisoned, and 
that she was buried at the south side of the quire at Dunmow, between two pillars 
there." Some accounts say that she was poisoned through her liquors, and others 
by means of an egg. The whole or most of it seems a monkish invention. 
St. I. line 6, ^' tainted" = tmted. So John Weever : "their rosie-tainted 

features." (Epigrammes, 1599 : No. 22.) 
„ II. ,, 5, " cousener " = cozener. 

„ VII. „ 4, " ones " = once. 

„ VIII. „ 7, "In that pure shrine" &c. = the shrine of immortal Virginity. 
Cf. Lines to his Mistresse before Cynthia, St. ii. line 7 : "In 
that clear Temple of eternal Fame." 
„ IX. ,, 1, " dooTOC "= judgment or verdict. 

Ibid. „ 2, " still-vading " = fleeting. This may be added to the collec- 

tions of examples of the distinction between " fading " and 
" vading " as elsewhere noted by us. 
Ibid. „ 7, " toomblesse." Cf. The Second Day's Lamentation, St. xxxvi. 

line 6. In other words — immortal, does not die. See our 
Introduction on this noticeable phrase. 

II. Cynthia, with certaine Sonnets and the Legend of Cassandra. 

Epistle Dedicatory. William, Earl of Darby. This was the sixth Earl. He married, 
26th June 1594, Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Edward Vere, seventeenth Earl of 
Oxford, and had issue. He died in 1642 In various ways this Epistle recalls 
Shakespeare's— as elsewhere to be discussed by us. 

Notes and Illustrations. 233 

Epistle to the Readers. The " one name " here spoken of is Elizabeth, i. e. Queen 
Elizabeth, who was flatteringly called Cynthia, Vesta, &c., &c., and his own lady- 
love, who must have been an Elizabeth. See close of Ode, page 102 ; also 
Cassandra, page 115. 

7\ T. in commendation of the Author. Query : Thomas Tuke, whose curious poera of 
the " Breaden God " is given in the Fuller Worthies' Library Miscellanies 

Line 1, " that " = he, that reares 

„ 2 = Where did mask love — or, a change to the passive giving 

the sense better. Where was masked [his] love — the nonage 
of his skill. Love is to be taken as his (Barnfield's) love or 
affection as declared, though in a disguised manner in the 
poem; and "nonage of his skill " as a descriptive epithet of 
this written love that depreciated The Affectionate Shepheard 
in favour of these later poems, and also expressed the under- 
age of the Author. 
,, 4, ^- by-dipt " =bi-cleft, two-forked, two-top})ed Parnassus. 

„ 7, 'Uou'df/eas^d" = loved of gods, feared of men. 

To his Mistresse. 

St. I. line 2, " president " = precedent. 

„ HI. „ S,*^thei/:" The reference is to "curious ears" of which "each 

curious ear " is part. 


St. I. „ 1. A slip — neuer mortall eye was beheld for 'did behold.' 

„ II. „ 9, " ro«< " = a crowd. 

Ibid. „ 8, "for to." So Marlowe and others, Greene especially ; Shake- 

speare rarely, and except as a colloquialism it seems speedily 
to have gone out of date. Consult Schmidt's Shakespeare 
Lexicon, s. v. 
St. III. ,, 6, " Wherein Art stroue tcith nature." An anticipation of Ben 

flonson's famous lines on Shakespeare's portrait. 
„ IV. ,, 9, " il-beseeming grace.'^ Query — grace or beauty ominous of ill 

or evil? Or is it a misprint for al [all] -beseeming 7 Or 
perhaps the reference is to the after-doscribod vexeil appearamv 
of " the rout of heavenly race." 
„ V. „ 4, " reaW -= reel or tarn swiftly. 


Notes and Illustrations. 

St. VI. 

„ VIII. 
„ IX. 

St. X. 

St. XI. 


line 9, " a light " = a-light or lighted, i.e. a lamp a-light. 
,, 8, " Laomedon : " Paris. 

„ 2, "resolued" = dissolved. Cf. Cassandra, page 106, line 2. 
„ 3, " Pheares " = feres, i.e. companions. 
„ 5, "^nW/«Z" = trundled. So '■ crimbling chalk' for 'crumbling' 

(Affec. Shep. Sec. Day's Lam. St. xliv. line 1). 
„ 7, " Pulcherimce " = for the fairest. 

„ 5, " censure " = judgment or verdict, as before. ' Shee ' is Pallas. 
Juno pointing to Pallas says quotli she — "Nor from .... 
flie . . . . though .... gole." 
„ 6, = and soe doe we quoth Palhas ; [quoth] Venus, — nor will I, 
&c. A more intelligible punctuation would be : 
" And so do we," 

Quoth Pallas, — Venus, " Nor will I 


,. 4, Appears to refer 'forme,' to Juno — fame, to IVIinerva — love, 
to Venus — life, i.e. future manner of life, to Paris— in 
accordance with the promised gift of the winning goddess. 
An example all this of the conceitful sentences of the time. 
Note this great praise of Elizabeth. 
,, 2, '■' priche" = the mark aimed at by archers (a more difficult one 
than the ordinary butt). Thus as praise followed a successful 
shot there came the saying, ' the prick and praise.' 
It will be observed that ' The Conclusion ' differs in form in 
every way from the previous stanzas, the rhyming being 
couplet, &c. 

Sonnets : 

Sonnet i. 


Sonnet v. 

8, Punctuate ' tearmeth ' with, (a period). 

" Two stars,^^ ^'c. == These stars [his eyes] vail their light when 

other [stars] shine [«'. e. at night]. But, when these others 

vanish, then do these star-eyes add glory to the sun. 
4, " Ti-ent." It is pleasing to find Barnfield remembering the 

river of his native county. 
5-8, Cf. Barnabe Barnes, as before. 

Close. The conceit seems to be the old belief that one received 

the vigour and youth of a young bed-fellow, e. g. the example 

of David in his old age. 

Notes and Illustrations. 235 

Sonnet vii. li. 11, Cyparissue ivas Siluanus ioy. See the Second Day's Lamen- 
tation, St. X. line 4, and relative note. 
,, IX. „ 2, '■^forlorne" i.e. [being] forlome. 

„ X. „ This (and indeed the whole of these Sonnets) like " Cynthia ' 

likewise illustrates the form of Shakespeare's Sonnets, as 
before. At line 12 I remove the H of It — a piintor's error 
or early Cockneyism. 
„ XIII. „ 11, '* thy imbracing Loiter :" Lily is not the epithet of thy imbracing 
lover, but thy imbracing lover is the epithet applied to the 
lily, and his whiteness, lines 13, 14, is the lily. The conceit 
is the amorous war of the lily and rose, the white and red 
in his cheeks. 
12, "fAe" = thee. 

14, " vades." See note and reference in Complaint of Chastitie, 
st. ix. line 2. ' Raing'sl ' = rangest. 
This appeared in England's Helicon. See onward. 
11, "/ee's" = fees. 

3, Cf. The Affec. Shep. St. xv. lines 3-4. 
12, This explains Cassandra, line 6. 
10, ^^ Rowland: " the poetical name of Drayton. 

An Ode. On this see our Introduction (§2. Bibliographical and Critical). 












///. Cassandra. 

" Night-Miisiques King." Here the nightingale is male; in 
the Complaint of Poetrie (page 163) female, and in •♦As 
it fell," &c. 
" soften : " i'. e. his mistress Eliza. 

The moan of Daphnis and ought to have been within " ". 
line 6, See Sonnet xvii. line 6. 

1, Cf. Affec. Shep. i. St. ii. and in. 
3, " impalled " = paled in or surrounded, impaled- 
6, " sutes " = takes the form of 

5, '* Tyara ; " = a head-dress, turban, or coronet, and is 
surely used in error here. 
Page 108, ,, II. „ 4, "ZfiM." sic. Qu. Biss, i. «. Elizabetli again— a Yeiled 

compliment to the Poet's " Eliza " ? albeit not the 

»ge 97, line 3, 

„ 98, 



,, jy. 



„ 103, 

, St 

. I. 







,. 104, 

1 )t 





236 Notes and Illustrations. 

happiest. Could ' lass ' be intended ? So in the Ode 
" My flocks feed not " — 
Farewell sweet lass, 
Thy like ne'er was. 
where is the same rhyme-word of ' was'. 
Page 108, St. ii. line 1-2. Cf. Shakespeare : 

" And on his neck her yoking arms she throws " 
(Venus and Adonis, line 592). 
So in parallel vyith " iuory necke " there is Shakespeare's 
" Since I haue hemmed thee here, 
Within the crescent of this ivory pale " 

{Ibid, lines 229-230;. 
Ibid. „ 5, " compiles : " so in Lady Pecunia, p. 153, St. iii. line 1 . 

So in Barnabe Barnes, Madr. xxv. line 8, &c. and 
Nicholas Breton in his title-pages, &c. 
Ibid. „ III. „ 4, '■'' firmnesse'" = stedfastness. 
Page 110, ,, III. ,, 3, " aluanj" = alveary, a bee-hive, from alvearium. 
Ibid. at end, " Muliere " {sic). 

,, 111, ,, I. Cf. Venus and Adonis (\mQ %\h, &Q,.). 

„ 112, „ I. „ 1, "TAew," query 'Him'? 
„ 114, „ III. „ 6. ^'■Endymion's loue,^' i.e. Cynthia. 
„ 115, „ III. „ 2, " rewoi^'ffiecZ " = renowned : the contemporary and later 

„ 116, „ I. „ 6, " reiy " = pity. See Notes and Illustrations to Barnabe 

„ 117, „ I. „ 3, " Aare-Jram'cZ;" imsettled, wild, fluttered — as a pursued 

Ibid. „ III. „ 6, '* Lemman " = paramour. 
Page 118, St. I. Cf. again Venus and Adonis, line 594, and context. 

Ibid. ,, III. ,, 4, See a similar line in Lady Pecunia, St. xviii. The 

metaphor was a common one about this time. 
„ 124, ,, II. „ 6, " brennish " == brinish. 

„ 125, ,, II. „ 5, ^^ Wight. -^^ another example of 'wight' as feminine. 
Ibid, „ III. „ 1-2 : " Now silent night drew on ; when all things sleepe, 

Saue theeues, and cares " 

Cf. Rape of Lucrece, lines 125-6 : 

" And every one to rest himself betakes, 

Save thieves, and cares " 

„ 127, „ II. Cf. Venus and Adonis and RajJe of Lucrece, as before. 

Notes and Illustrations. 237 

IV. The Encomion of Lady Pecunia. 

To the Gentlemen Readers " a Subiect both new (as hauing neuer beene written vpon 
before)" &c. " The Massacre of Money " (1602) followed not preceded. 
Page 136, *' Pessenius" == Pescenius Niger. 

„ 137, St. II. line 6, "angels: " a play on the name of coins so called and 

the heavenly creatures. 
„ 138, „ I. „ 6, ^'counter:" a pun on being put in the 'Counter' or 
.prison for debt. So in next stanza (1. 2.) 

1 , Punctuate * why,'. 
4, 6, and St. ii. lines 3, 5, " crosse:" the reference is to 

the cross of the coinage. Line 8 " liiine " = cease. 
4. See Cassandra, p. 118. 

2, " Occupation." Cf. Shakespeare on ' occupi/.^ 

4. Punctuate " Since, fall,". 

4, *' ragd " = ragged. 

4, " slip:" a pun on slip, i.e. a base or forged coui. 

6, *' blush " = the copper shines through. Can this use of 

^flourish ' be paralleled ? 
4, " Docke : " = pack, as before. 

Elizabeth did see to the reform and purification of the 

This Stanza shows that Barnfield was a Protestant. 
1, "pretended'''' = set forth. 

1605. The praise of James here is moderate compared 
with the incense that was offered him contem- 

3, " list : " = if it be her desire or pleasure. 
Quotation from 1605, St. in. line 5, " his life " is 

probably a misprint for " her life," for Bounty in the 
Complaint of Poetrie is feminine (pp. 159, 160, &c.): 
moreover the feminine is more appropriate when 
speaking of Bounty as hoping to have been sainted 
with the Virgin Queen. 

Page 151, St. I. „ 5, •« Then " = than, i.e. Tlian matter would. 

2 I 

„ 139, 



„ 141, 



., 142, 



M 144, 

„ 145, 

„ 146, 






„ 147, 






„ 148, 






»ge 149, 









„ II. 


„ II. 


„ II. 

238 Notes and Illustrations. 

Page 151, St. III. „ 1, Punctuate with comma after 'more.' 

„ 152, „ II. „ 5, " c/?//9« " = clipped — a play on ' embrace ' and the crime 
of * clipping ' the coinage. 

The Complaint of Poetrie, ^c. This may be compared with Breton's Will of Wit (in 
our Chertsey Worthies' Library edition of his complete Works) ; where the argu- 
ment between the Poet and Soldier as to who most merited commendation is 
well sustained. 
Page 161, St. I. line 4. Punctuate pen : or . 
See note on page 97. 

4, " Beate : " Qu. bait ? 

5, " wight." Another example of ' wight ' as feminine. 

See also pp. 153, 170. 
„ 169, „ I. The construction here is (as elsewhere) The Merchant's 

wife that leaues her Loue, the Tender-harted Mother, 

whose Sonne warre, &c. In line 3 delete 

comma and the first; 
„ 172, „ I. „ 4, The construction is — And yet she was be loved of me least, 

i. e. she loved me least. 

The Combat betweene Conscience and Covetousnesse, ^c. 

Page 179, line 9, " sobe?-, sad." See our full note on "sad" in our edition of 
Marvell, vol. i. Glossarial Index s. v. 
Ibid. „ \Q, '^fur:" a play on "fur" (for ladies dress) and "fur" the 
Latin for thief. 
Page 182, „ 7, " Aurice : " The correct reading as shown by scansion must be 
" Auarice — but A | uarice | in Eue | 
,, 183, ,, 5. Delete comma after ' refraine ' = refraine from; but Barn- 
field's punctuation is very often wrong. 

Ibid. „ 8, "Woe-7nan man woe:" Cf. Barnabe Barnes, Sonnet 

xi. line 4, " No man but woman would haue sinned so." 
(Parthenophil and Parthenophe, p. 7.) Breton in his "Praise 
of Vertuous Ladies and Gentlewomen " (1599) thus vindi- 
cates woman : " Some will say a woman is a wo to man. 
Who put in that to, did it of his owne authoritie, and 
therefore it is not to be allowed. For consider right of the 
word, and the to is as well left out, as the worde falsely 
written; for indeede it ought to be written wooman, not 

Notes and Illustrations. 239 

woman, for that she dooth woo man with her vertues, who 
weddes her with vanitie. For man being of wit sufficient to 
consider of the vertues of a woman, is (as it were) ravished 
with the delight of those dainties, which do (after a sort), 
draw the senses of man to serve them." (Our edition p. 57). 
Page 184, „ 6. Punctuate comma after yet not hee. 
,, 185, „ 3, " Zef " = hinder. 

Ibid. 14, 15. But that this couplet re-appears in 1605 edition, one 

would suppose it had been an ending which had afterward.s 
been altered. 

V. Poems in divers Humors. 

On this section see our Introduction § 2 for refutation of Mr. Collier's inferences, &c. 

Page 189, Sonnet I. " R. L." Probably Richard Linch or Lynch, whose " Diella : 
certaine Sonnets" (1596) deserves revival. 

Ibid. ** Dovoland" i. e. John Dowland, whose " Bookes " of " Songes 

or Ayres " 1597, onward, are still renowned 

Ibid. line 14, " Knight " One longs to know who he was. 

Sonnet II. „ 13, 14, King James: but Barnfield's references are not very 
happy. Meres quotes from this sonnet as by " my friend." 

Page 190, " A Remembrance, 4'c" See our Introduction on this § 1. 

Ibid. Ode. See our Introduction § 2 on this, and vindication of 

Barnfield's authorship. The first part of this Ode was set 
to music as a Madrigal, for four voices, by the Earl of 
Mornington, father of the Duke of Wellingfton ; for three 
voices by W. Knyvett; and as a duet by Mr. Henry R. 
Bishop, to be sung by Miss Stephens and Miss M. Tree in 
Sliakespeare's Comedy of Errors. The words are printetl, 
with slight variations, all for the worse, in Clark's " Glees," 
«fec. (1814, p. 20). See Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xvi. 
159, 160. New Series, 1841. 

Page 191, „ 3,^^Shee:" Elsewhere, as noted, Barufield mokes the singing 
nightingale male. 

An Epitaph upon the death of his Aunt, j-c. See our Introduction § 1 on this Aunt. 
Heading, • Vliaing :' sic. 

240 Notes and Illustrations. 

From England's Helicon, 1600. 

Page 197, line 12. Note the grammar — inconstancie remaine., Inconstancie may 
here be taken as a collective of women and men, or as 
sometimes the verb may equal " [doth] remaine." 

Ibid. „ 17, "nodeale" = no part, being the opposite of some deale. Cf. 

our edition of George Herbert, s. v. 

Page 197, line 21, "procures to weep: " apparently means, weeps instead of me in 
the latinate sense of to care for or manage in place of another. 

Ibid. „ 26, "c^te" = parti-colours. 

Ml/ flocks feed not, 4-c. This poem appeared originally (with slight variations) in a 
collection of Madrigals by Thomas Weelkes, accompanied with music. It was 
transferred to " The Passionate Pilgrim " (1599) again with slight variations. 
Then finally it appeared in « England's Helicon " (1600). Excepting ortho- 
graphical variations, the following are the only noteworthy readings in the 
" Passionate Pilgrime " text : 
St. I. line 3, " Loue is dying, Faithe's defying: " 

Ibid. „ 4, " Harts nenying " 

St, II. „ 1, " In blacke morne I." 

„ III. „ 10, " For a sweet content the cause of all my woe." 

It is clear " England's Helicon " gives the best text. 

FT. From the Isham MS. 

See our Introduction § 2 on this section. — 
Page 206, line 1, " pnted" = presented. 

„ 209, „ 9, " indented : " an heraldic phrase. 

A. B. G. 










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